


You're Not Coming Back Again

by graspthesanity



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Gay Parenting done right, I have no idea which tags, M/M, tags are gay, they're just gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6033433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graspthesanity/pseuds/graspthesanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Present day. Miles is a single father who decides to give up on Alex, who is deeply in denial about his sexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Being in the closet is being among a field of dead sunflowers with some of their leaves changed to red, hope, I guess.

I always loved fields and I always wanted to walk in one, maybe that is what I’m doing.

I wake up to see him laying on his stomach and facing the other side, rather than myself.

I should really stop reading bizarre magazines while I wait for the GP. I lean down to kiss him and he opens his deep brown eyes for a while, grinning.

Exactly, grinning until he realizes it.

And Alex sits up.

“Shit!” I knew it.

I watch him hastily start to pick up his clothes, jeans already lost halfway to the corridor. Instead I just stand up and I follow him.

I’m used to shaking, so instead I get some water, wondering why don’t my eyes trail him off as usual, but I’m too tired.

“I told you, I haven’t been sleeping with her for months.” It sounds like a snap, he knows I’m avoiding him.

“Yeah and that’s why you’re fucking with her. Right, Alex?” I want to break the glass and I am thankful to be naked and we both frankly still smell of sex. My teeth are pressed together so hard that my jaw starts aching and I notice him looking at a naked me.

“Fuck, I can’t, ok?” He raises his hands, but soon enough buttons his shirt. I step closer to him, we’re the same height which gives too much benefits and awkwardness in fights.

“Ok, then.” I lean closer and I see that he can’t breathe. “Fuck off.”

And I turn back to my bedroom and I hear him lock the door. He has his own keys, Alex can come anytime which is what he has been doing lately. Sometimes he comes every night per week, sometimes he doesn’t for a month. It really depends on how he feels about it. I’ve talked to him, that we should both come out. I really don’t care, I already don’t have my relatives on my side, I lost whatever I actually could.

But Alex was there when my mother cut me off and didn’t call back and in the end I got a nice long explanation how she wouldn’t keep in contact with me, how shameful I was and how gay men are disgusting and how I should never have children and that I am a pedophile and my father wasn’t better either. Both memories make me cringe.

But it happened.

Alex didn’t come out, he broke up with Alexa, saw what happened and stopped. He didn’t move forwards, he got terrified with the thought of never being a band member again. I didn’t blame him at the time, but I never thought this would trail on longer than I expected. I didn’t expect it to trail for months and Alex even getting a beard.

The day they first had sex was a slap in my face, he kept telling me how he didn’t see the appeal in women, but all I’d see was

he tried.

He fucking tried women again.

I no longer was the only person he’d have sex with.

She’d suck him off occasionally.

Not that I didn’t, but it was trying to bleach out himself, make himself plain and dyeable in all absurd colours which he is not.

I just go and take the keys from the drawer, opening something which would be my side of secrets.

Alex never questioned the closed door, as long as it had no dead odour he seemed ok with it and I guess I was ok with it.

I still have him banging the door and I wonder how many days will it take him to come back to me even if it would be for a very short while.

My mind is scattered and I flick the lights in the room to illuminate it. I was really concerned about choosing pink for the wallpaper but I like pink, I’m scared what if I still shouldn’t have chosen pink for the -

And it dawns me that soon enough I’ll have my daughter in my own hands and it won’t be me smoking and trying to win the lottery with Alex as the prize. What if I don’t care so much about the child, but rather I want to get rid of Alex?

The thought of another man makes me gag and I’ve always wanted a child of my own, I never understood people who didn’t. It well, hopefully, be a person who would love you unconditionally and I really hoped Arabella would.

She was born with that name and when I saw it I couldn’t help but wonder if she was named after the song and I wanted the younger the child the better and I guess myself being british and wealthy put a lot in my favor, people who think it doesn’t are wrong. It’s hard, but you still can.

I wonder how would she turn out and if nature would appear, but her story was simple, a lost child and her mother was about fifteen. She could be found, but it so happens, that some people do not want children and abortion doesn’t become an option. I’m sure the boyfriend is nowhere close either. It makes me wonder even more, but I guess I just wanted Arabella.

I close the door, knowing that Alex won’t be here when I’ll take her home for the first time and have trouble with the fucking milk. Alex doesn’t stop me, he never even asked me about if I wanted children, but even us becoming a couple was barely discussed after such denial.

I look at the bed, even if I managed to get two, one next to the bed where -

I’ll have to set it up tomorrow.

It’s gonna be fun, looking at the manual, as I have too much time on my hands.

And that’s what I do.

The night went on with me recalling seeing Alex for the first time, back when he had acne and didn’t know how to dress properly, held his guitar too high and was eager to see me who was amused by him. It was as if no one had ever told him how marvelous he was. It took us a long while to do anything. I wasn’t aware of his pansexuality, he himself was not aware of it for too long.

Because he is the only pansexual I know, I jump into judgements, but then I do know that it’s not like -

He claims he is pansexual, but he still chooses women, but then that would be a matter of the closet.

My thoughts are mixed, both scrapped in the morning with the bed and in the night with insomnia in both eyes as I lay in the damp sheets from sweat and come. It was cold and sticky, but I wanted to see how long I would last and I lasted until the morning, getting a call halfway that I could pick up Arabella.

I wondered what would I tell her if she asked me who was the love of my life and it seemed worse than a divorce, an on and off lover who doesn’t trust me enough.

I hadn’t known I was gay myself, you still think for a long while, that no attraction is surely attraction because the parents hold the same lack of fire you do for your girlfriend so you’re surely on the right track (to misery).

I guess my relationship with Alex was always a very clumsy dance, both of us clunging onto each other while being drunk. I’m still surprised I managed to control all my fear and kiss him the first time I did.

I had fallen in love with Alex the first time I had seen him.

He was on stage, singing horribly, I could see him be nervous and even Matt didn’t drum too well, but it was something, fuck it was always amazing. He himself was gorgeous and when he first walked on stage I had caught his eyes which were full of warm chocolate. I couldn’t move as the group was jumping, at least it felt like it and I kept staring at the lead singer with his goofy attire and his appeal. I think I stood like that for quite a few songs, myself 17 and looking back I wonder how come I didn’t like the easiness of being alone and not knowing

that I was gay

and that the love of my life would haunt me every night as he wears the mask of heterosexuality which no decent human being holds.

Before Alex went back deep in the closet, he kept asking me why won’t the world listen to their bodies and just fall in love with people, that even I’m not inclusive when it comes to women, while he is. He said that grinning and mocking me, while drinking beer.

Both of us coming to terms with ourselves and how our bodies managed to be together.

And then he’d playing and I wasn’t too far off and he had noticed me. I’m still surprised wth what lie had I came up with to get behind the stage and see Alex tune his guitar for no reason, stare into the distance before he started laughing that his first gig was now long gone.

I hadn’t realized how gorgeous he had looked, right there in front of me, until he glanced to look at me with the curious eyes whenever we’d buy a new record or anything I’d give to him for any holiday. It was a different fire, all what I had called love could be thrown away and forgotten. I had a burning passion, which was ripping my heart, I wanted to be with this boy desperately, I wanted to fuck him, I wanted him to fuck me.

He was gorgeous and I wasn’t thinking, besides of what should I say.

“Um, hi.” He had said, grinning at me and looking behind me and sad that there was no mob, but just me.

“Hi.” I said blankly, nothing else, just staring at him, not knowing what else to say. “Y-you were so fucking great.”

I used my chance to cover up with a white lie.

“I’m still fucking speechless, look.” And I started laughing, while Alex just smirked back.

“What’s your name?” The lead singer asked me, leaning against the wall, before choosing a chair instead. He put his treasured guitar down but I could still see how he had fiddled with his fingers. “I’m Alex.”

“Miles.” I said simply and I really din’t know where would this conversation head. I realize that if I don’t keep talking I might lose him, so all I could have said, was that it was a pleasure to meet him.

Later on we bought ourselves two drinks.

I think by the end of the night, I knew that there was something in me that I really hadn’t known, which was my sexuality.

Then everyone in school seemed different, I realized that there was nothing wrong with me not looking at the girls in all the different skirts, but rather at the blokes and how they would wear their ties, who had random boners and I started wondering who was gay and who wasn’t.

All of a sudden I realized that it’s not just me, the whole fucking world felt fucking gay to me. But all I knew what that Alex was Alex. We had departed with a laughter and we had managed to drink a bit awkwardly, but when I got drunk I started telling him of all the bands I liked and I really held from saying how adorable and attractive he looked, but I didn’t.

It took me ages, our friendship dragged on and on, becoming more homoerotic. I had managed to be in a band and I had already touched myself to Alex, aware who I really thought of.

I guess we had become friends when he went to mine’s, my parents out and we just watched whatever was on television, I had bought popcorn and there was no real occasion, until Alex told me his side of the story I had thought that surely, he was bored, we were all bored, now we’ve got much more entertainment available, so I still wonder how I’d manage without playing some stupid games with zombies at a hand’s reach.

When you’re about to break up, or rather after you get the fucking desire to apologize and tell your story.

I stopped doing the baby bed and I didn’t tell Alex what I was doing.

“I just... I found it bizarre, that you liked me, I knew I liked boys, but it was different. I felt like I could choose heaven or hell and girls weren’t that bad and still aren’t.” He exhales and I wonder if he’s smoking and where the fuck is Arielle and if she’s aware that we were once a pure item, not just random fucking around. I wonder why we stopped using regular landlines with the spiral cords and try to go into another room for privacy. “And there you were, fucking red, trying to score with me. I fucking know you.”

Maybe he’s drunk and I’m fucking crying.

But Alex goes on.

“I fucking love you, I saw you looking at me from the crowd, you liked me and you fucking followed me. You bought me a drink, you could barely speak until you got properly drunk and I wasn’t sure if I should bond with a bloke. I fucking loved you then, I didn’t know who the fuck you were, but I never had anyone adore me so fuck, so much.”

He stops.

In my head he is holding the spiral cord, biting into it, eyes closed, so that they don’t pierce my soul with agony and fear of never having him again after Arabella is in.

“Sometimes I question myself, how gray I am in all the areas. But then it’s the person, I had Alexa, who was always second to you. But -”

I look at the watch.

I don’t know who of us should break up.

“I’m engaged. My mother is happy that she’ll have grandchildren.” Alex tries to loosen up and I can see a forced smile and the cord is gone, he is most likely calling from Arielle’s iPhone, his own too old and he can’t be bothered to buy a new one, a heated debate from everyone and always a topic of discussion. “She thinks if I’m engaged, I’ll have children instantly.”

“I adopted.”

And he freezes instead, when it was supposed to be me. My bottom lip is trembling.

I put the phone on the floor, not needing to hear what Alex has to say but then I pick it up.

All I hear is silence.

This shouldn’t be how a break up should be, but it happens to be so, because our relationship never was a relationship.


	2. 2

“I fucking knew that there was something else other than friendship. You just don’t go around blushing and not knowing what to say.”

I still see us in the same apartment, both of us still closeted, but happy, Alex ordering pizza as neither of us can be forced to go outside and we still are worried of holdng hands even if society had stepped up but we’re not fucking Sweden. I actually wonder if it’s as accepting as I haven’t walked around in Sweden with Alex’s fingers intertwined with mine.

I see us laughing and I keep thinking that somewhere else we are together, in a world and no one cheats on anyone (but then it’s not cheating, I’m aware of everything and I’m the lover on the side in this case)

but I can’t help but wonder am I happy in that world,

when I’m aware that Alex can break anything and a few lines will break the thin surface of the ice ring, so that we can’t glide anymore. Skating becomes impossible.

I don’t know where to put myself for the rest of the night and the morning as the bed is assembled and I don’t think Alex will call me again. I’m thankful that my mobile dies, but I realize that I could be expecting a call saying that I don’t get my chid, but instead I plug it in to recieve a text from Alex, who wants to see me on neutral territory.

I’m surprised he wants this public, but knowing him it’s gonna be some small place where he is sure no one will see him, maybe he just doesn’t want to look at the room and I won’t be keeping the door locked anymore.

I end up dressing up, wondering how he will look like and betting myself that it will be leather but I actually wonder if it will be with hair gel, since everyone knows his quiff.

It is a small place and we’re practically alone here. I stand near the entrance for a while, watching him looking at the wall, rubbing his chin for a while and I wonder if he had newly shaved as well, applied the gel and what were the thoughts in his head. I’m not sure he even thinks of me anymore and I don’t know what I’m doing here.

I’m not sleeping and neither he is, even if we both wake up late. Back when we were together I’d still be sleeping, my legs interwtined with his, but due to the heat (my apartment is always warm) we’d just have the legs connected and the rest laying diagonally on each side of the bed, covers starting from the hips.

Then as sleep fades out, we’d crawl to each other, whoever wakes up first taking the piss of the other. Once Alex spilled cold water on me and we had to sleep on the couch, too pissed drunk to realize we could’ve used the hairdryer.

Whenever I see him, I wonder if he had changed beyond his ‘looking cool’ attire, but whenever he smiles it still looks like he never hit puberty or when he speaks. His smile.

I don’t get one once he notices me, he just has a plain smile, not interested in coming back or coming out and I wonder once he’ll get married if the ring will keep piercing my vision.

I just sit besides him and I wonder if he regrets calling me.

I can’t help but look at him piercingly, I was sure I wouldn’t need him anymore but looking at him, I can’t help but wish he’d come back, I wish the world weren’t so cruel to love and sex. It’s as if we are harming the society. I got a child, but I’m still harming when there are a lot of children without anyone who have no future and what about those who are in other countries which has no social care and will surely not get any education and will die soon enough.

I had wanted to adopt from different places, but a lot have bans and it won’t be hard if they try hard to find my sexuality even if I had only been linked to one man my entire life. It’s been ten years.

He doesn’t offer me coffee, just yet and we keep looking at each other.

I know that he loves me, but how far does he love me?

I want to run my hands through his hair, feeling the gel, I want to kiss his neck as he closes his eyes in pleasure as I slide my hand down.

I miss him too much.

I don’t know what else do either of us even have to say.

“You’re right... Maybe this isn’t the best place.” Alex says and his fingers are intertwined on the table. He looks around and sighs, looking at me, exhausted from all the feelings he’s been holding.

“I know you don’t love her.” I can’t help but snap, which ends up being a slap across Alex’s face.

Alex just closes his eyes.

He’s ignoring me or maybe I’m not exaggerating, he does realize that this might be one of those decisions which will continue burdening your life or does he think that he can get out of it a few years later.

I know that he still finds women attractive, so I guess sex isn’t that hard to hide, while I just never went even close to women, I just found them not my thing at all, just like even if you’re gay you wouldn’t sleep with some men, just that for me it happened to be all women. Sure I’ve kissed girls back when I dipped myself in the early teens and I would get a pat for being the first one with a girlfriend who was heels over in love with me to cheat on me as soon as she could.

I was pretty lonely, so I was surprised that someone liked me for some reason and apparently kept staring at the back of my head in maths period. I found it odd and back when I hadn’t discovered Alex I thought that sympathy was love. Not knowing what love is and having still parents doesn’t help me and hearing that my love towards Alex is not real was heavily hypocritical. I’m still surprised they are together, but when you think of heterosexuality who else would you go for?

I asked Alex about it and he said he dated straight women and they were ok. I didn’t believe him and I always wondered if his attraction to women would make it more complex. He’s dated queer girls. But I really don’t know or understand, it feels like dating women for him, well actually is, a step back.

I want to lie next to him.

I can’t help but lean closer to him across the table, leaving him frozen.

I can’t help but grin, feeling the hint of victory, after such despair any touch or any smile is bliss. It feels better than not having anything.

I lean closer.

I wonder how exposed are we and Alex slowly closes his eyes, not moving, the blood going to his cheeks.

I kiss him briefly.

I hope that to everyone here which is -

I glance.

The lady at the counter left.

I can’t help but grab him closer to me and he instantly sticks his tongue in my mouth, grabbing me by the shoulders and I feel relaxed, feeling wanted.

It happens.

Sex is like the last thing we can’t decline each other in, maybe Alex thinks it’s the less emotional one, but it’s not, some people just fuck plainly, we make love, it always takes us ages, I stretch it out, knowing that Alex might go away as soon as possible. Or that he’ll wake up in the middle of the night.

I feel his fear, but he’s dunked in and I feel his eager hands running on my back.

I lean back, looking at him, how relaxed he is for a few moments after the kiss, passion turning into love.

We walk back, it’s not too long of walk, arms intertwined, but Alex making sure that he knows no one. We share a cigarette, we’re too gay in the press and the press is to straight to capture it.

I still can’t help but wonder how long will he last, because he sure as hell isn’t breaking off that engagement.

I can’t help but wonder about the people we fall in love with. How we can’t fall out and easily forgive seeing them love us back, just as Alex holds my face and holds his lips against my own. And we’re back and I can’t keep my eyes closed, paranoia comes in waves but eventually I just relax and enjoy the kiss.

Alex goes to make the kettle, lighting a cigarette and I start packing the necessary documents, wondering if I’m missing anything. I don’t think he’ll come and I wonder if this silence is all I will get today.

He lights a second cigarette from which I get a drag on and I start looking through the documents, as Alex watches me.

If I know that he’ll always come back to me for a short while, I’m I willing?

We drink tea, watching each other, both wondering if we are on the same shore.

“I don’t feel engaged.” He says all of a sudden. “I’m sorry.”

We both know our relationship is a massive mood swing, a pendulum, swinging back and forth, but never stopping at one spot. Even while we dated it seemed brief. We couldn’t become a couple, shying off from every time we made love, both of us not sure how to handle it.

When I look back, I wonder how come it took us so long. But when kissing is just a massive step as complicated as an engagement is today or coming out as a couple, I guess kissing was a big deal. It was actually dipping yourself into a relationship when it had been not too recent since you wouldn’t even hug someone with affection.

“I know.” I say.

Sometimes relationships just happen when they wouldn’t, just like the first time you pick an instrument it doesn’t work but one day, you’re actually playing and I can’t find any logical explanation why was it today and not yesterday or tomorrow.

We’ve laughed a lot and I recall Matt poking Alex, that I seemed to tag along too often to each concert and I started learning the lyrics, fuck, I’d even manage to cover a song, Matt was awfully supportive, once even asking me what I felt about Alex.

It’s that time when it’s what I’ve been told, I got told that every move with a person you love is like a game of chess. You need to know who devours who and if you’re really in love.

Alex was unsure and he had managed to get a girlfriend.

He wasn’t too into her, but she helped him write a song. I just felt uncomfortable and I’d keep the songs to myself.

We kept growing closer and Alex had heard my guitar playing and asked me to help him with this song, where he felt I fit perfectly.

It was a breakup song, well, to me it seemed so and I really hoped he’d break up with her or maybe it was his subconsciousness working on his mind, eating him away and I was right in front of him, dodging questions about girls.

“Hey, Miles.” Alex stopped playing a bit, curious yet some black curtain was hanging above him.

“Sometimes.” Alex stops me from daydreaming and we’re back in the kitchen and I catch his grin. “I recall that time when it occured to me that what if you were attracted to me, you didn’t really hang out with Jamie or Matt, it was me all the time and Matt told me that you fancied me.

I recall how it suddenly struck me, that you’d always make sure I was sober enough to walk home or you’d drag me back.

It was highly odd, I sure had some blokes, but it was the first time I had a covered confession. Matt had told me that he had asked you if you liked someone. It feels so fucking bizarre talking about it now, when now it’s just hookups and everything you’d try to achieve in months is achieved in hours.

So he told me that you froze and he’d been watching us and he saw us playing backstage once, both of us having our cheeks pressed against a broken microphone and he wondered if that was love, why weren’t we going for it?

Then he kept noticing how you’d always nag to keep me from throwing up, coz my hangovers were awfully bad.

So Matt had decided to ask you and you just paled up, as if your secret was known.

Matt said you never said it, but it could be seen that it was someone close and it was more than obvious.

Matt knew it was me.

So he had asked me the same question and my relationship was pretty much off.

I was blind and I shrugged it off.

And then he told me that you liked me.

I still remember how I felt my breathing get blocked and how bizarre it felt. It felt wrong, homosexuality and relationships with the same sex were still judged, we still have a long way to go, we’re not Sweden or Scandinavia or all those countries which are accepting and human. I was terrified, that I knew that it wasn’t one sided, it was fucking two sided.

If you were a girl I’d be fucking you long enough already. But the taboo of thoughts was there, blidning me and Matt told me.”

And Alex became silent.

“And then I kissed you.” I say softly and quiet, before a massive grin reaches my face.

“I kissed you.” I still feel the same lump as Alex had asked me if I was gay.

I never had that question straight at me, everyone just presumed that I just didn’t have a girlfriend, people kept either nagging that I should find one or I should wait some more. It was funny how I got that asked as Alex was carrying our pints to our table and he asked a what as he sat back next to me.

He just ruffled my hair as he heard it.

It was back at his small apartment, them already big, but Alex couldn’t be bothered to move elsewhere as he enjoyed the bizarre view to the small park with bizarre dogs running around and he’d play his guitar watching them and watching the lawnmowers in the morning.

I’m not sure who should tell it, but Alex just speaks up.

“I asked you if you were gay and you nodded. It’s kind of when you realize that you’re both in each other’s radar. It’s I guess like when you’re close friends (in the scenario when you’re both straight and in early teens) and you realize you’re both the opposite sex. It’s the same thing, I suppose.

You told me you’re gay.

It changed everything in a second, I wished I had a bigger apartment and I recall just standing up and randomly picking up clothes which were laying around, ranting how small it was.” Alex grins, the years never affect him, it’s just the new hair and the new clothes. If he’d grow his hair and put on a random print shirt, he’d look the same as he is on the inside.

I started making us tea.

Alex frowned as I stood up and walked to be behind me.

He put his arms around my neck, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“I know you love me.” I say, snapping a bit, knowing how he’s been paranoid for years. I want him back.

I want no society between us.

I want to fucking women between us or men for that matter, whoever Alex can stand waking up to.

“I need to go pick Arabella.” I say, realizing he is not aware of my daughter’s name and Alex looks confused for a second, grabbing me by the chin and tilting my head so I can see his warm eyes.

I forget.

We kiss.

“Don’t ask, she was named by her mother. Maybe she also likes Arabella.” I shrug, still feeling hurt, I’d always want both of us to adopt and I’m getting tired of having long periods when I am alone without Alex, touring is ok, but when he’s with someone else and in denial, I really wish he was touring and calling me via Skype and sending me photos of random beer brands which taste like piss he bought at random.

I really wonder if he’ll count Arabella as his own child, as he pretty much is the only man in my life. Even if in documents, I’m the only father.

“You have to pick her up, don’t you?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I say.

“You want me to come with you?” Alex suggest.

“As far as I’m aware I’m the only father.” I feel anger rising in me. He’s planning to have other children, not with me.

I just turn to face him.

He still wants to go.

Arabella is my child, it was my decision and I don’t want her to have an on and off father.

I don’t know if it is anymore about the child or myself.

“As far as I know as well, we broke up.” I grab him by his arms, as he starts biting his bottom lip, but I look down not to see his face. “So you can calmly fuck off.”

“In fact...” I raise my voice. “We never even fucking were a couple!”

“This is about me raising my child, you’re not there, it was my decision, because guilt takes over you! It’s not about me or us, it’s about you and your guilt. Well, it’s your fucking life and you’re not a teenager who will get kicked out on the street and I think your fans can swallow that you’re gay- sorry, pansexual. I think our society is still somehow moving forward and even if it weren’t, would you care?” My voice goes more quiet to the end and I go to the corridor, leaving him there. I hear him sit back on the chair and play with the cup.

“You’re right.” I hear him from the kitchen. “I should go.”

“No.” I reply. “I think you should stay.”

“You’re contradicting yourself.”

“I know. So are you.”


	3. Chapter 3

I remember our first kiss, as I wait for Arabella, they are late as usual. I left Alex crying in the apartment. I don’t care, he’s made me cry far more many times. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up until Arielle grabbed asking me if I knew where he were. I said I don’t, that’s why I’m calling.

My tongue was itching to ask her, how does she sleep knowing that the rumor about us sometimes circulates when Matt is drunk and keeps telling her that she’s holding Alex from a long old love.

Matt has always sided with me, even suggesting that we can stay at his anytime, if we feel the need for some strong visual support.

I had grabbed Alex who was terrified.

“I love you.” He had said, trembling. He grabbed me by the shoulders. “I love you!”

And I kissed him, all the years I’ve spend singing with him, watching him get pissed drunk, thrown random items at him, bought bizarre cds, vinyls, clothes, weird street food, it was all there, all the desire and it was mutual.

Alex was clinging onto me, his tongue went in my mouth first, eager, as he pressed me against the wall, our bodies were fully pressed for the first time and I felt him entirely on me, his hips against my own.

I had never touched anyone like this before, all the girls I’ve tried with can easily be thrown out of the window, as I’ve known who I had always loved.

I kept pulling him closer, I got scared when I lifted his shirt and Alex didn’t stop the kiss, just briefly to take it off and I think I stopped breathing for the whole thing.

I just watched him, shirtless, I’ve even seen him naked, but it was a different context,

he was mine.

I felt as if it would be forever.

Lust turns strong.

I get called in to pick her up, she’s grown. I can’t help but grin, as I sign the final paper, shaking hands and knowing that I became a proud father. I wondered what would happen now, what if things stay the same, would I have to tell her about Alex?

I wondered what her sexuality would be, giving her advice towards women, I was useless at that, they were always the blanket of covering up for Alex, some sad excuse to the lack of our official status.

I drove back and she was sleeping, awfully quiet. I had bought all that synthetic milk, that was all she could eat for the moment and I’ve tried warming it up, hearing people complaining that it is a bit tricky, so I figured it would be better to prepare myself rather than do it when Arabella is crying.

I had wondered if I should change her name, but then why would I?

I had met the mom once, she was nice and I wonder if Arabella would grow like her. We agreed that Arabella can always track her down, but she wanted no rights, just the allowance for Arabella to find her if anything. That was easily arranged and I became the legal father. She had asked me if I had a girlfriend and I just shook my head, saying that I’m gay. The mother just shrugged, saying her best friend was bi and she hoped that my relationships were less melodramatic than hers, hoping that queer men were better. I just laughed saying that my relation is just as fucked and she just wished me to be the best dad ever.

I wonder how would it be, with a man coming in and out of my life every single hour. Alex making my head spin with desire, as I can’t understand if I want him to leave or stay. He’s not staying, so I have to choose if I want nothing or a bit, but I want it all. I want everything which can be given to me desperately.

Sometimes I wish he had the old haircuts, because he trimmed it and everything started falling and you just start liking everything which changed to disaster, I liked seeing him geeky and young, he still lacks puberty though.

I just don’t like the shell he creates around him and in the morning when he puts on hair gel, it feels like he is trying to emphasize that he does not have a relationship with another male.

I know it’s a big deal for him, but is it really such a big deal with who you sleep with and not getting accepted by some churches and people?

I mean, you get to be happy with yourself, sure the bitterness is left in the mouth, but no in the heart and the anchor is long gone, left on the shore, actually proved useless when you can sail so far. I don’t think one would choose death over good life.

The whole problem with Alex was that until pure recent he didn’t accept himself being attracted to men and usually you discover that you’re attracted to the same sex and then you go on, but he kept going without accepting it himself, it wasn’t even about outer acceptance in the beginning, watching a bunch of old photos made me realize that before we had kissed.

Sometimes I try to remember something cheesy Alex had done to me and I fail. I just can’t recall and I wonder if he ever accepted my love as well. He loved me, but he never accepted it.

When we’re back I check too see if Alex is still in and he pretends not to notice us, he only stubs his cigarette, his sight focused on the window, as he doesn’t turn around.

Then he turns around, he has been fiddling with his hair a lot so his quiff is gone. He looks at me first, not adjusted to my daughter yet and then he looks at Arabella who is in my arms. I don’t know what to say and neither does he.

I just turn on my heel and go to Arabella’s room, closing the door and I don’t know if I’m crying because Arabella is home or because Alex is home.

Eventually I hear him knocking and the baby starts waking up and then her face cringes and she gives me the first taste of lack of peace in the house, when I already have Alex to deal with.

Alex instantly pushes the door open.

I just grab Arabella and shove her into his hands, using him for the meantime as I go back to the kitchen and I start warming up the synthetic milk. Alex starts cooing at her, rocking her heavily and eventually he starts humming something, looking up and trying to chose a more appropriate song than about Flo. He actually starts singing Arabella.

I always wondered who was Arabella in his eyes, but I never asked.

Instead Arabella listens to her own song, still raising her voice from while to while before I give her the milk bottle. I grab her from Alex and he keeps staring at her. We both stare at her and I think we both have wide smiles as she watches us back, surely not asking questions like society does about who is the mother and who is the father.

I’ve thought about it before and I knew that I wanted both of us to be the fathers, we are both men after all and it doesn’t matter who gave birth even if it was me or Alex by some new technology I’m not aware of. I feel Alex’s hand on the back of my neck, but it’s not sexual, it’s comforting and he presses a kiss against my lips. He still wants me,

but now I feel like Arabella is my armor and I have something to look forward to when he leaves, Arabella is now my sweet little love.

I can’t break up with him,

he can’t break up with me.

I can’t help but cockblock myself even after we feed Arabella and Alex keeps kissing the back of my neck and I feel his tears mixing with his kisses. His touch mixing with sweat and salt. Alex strokes my shoulders,

give me strength, I wonder asking Alex himself in my mind

give me the strength to love you more

so that I can hold you walking through the door

leaving the child which could’ve been ours

or which is.

I have papers for Alex’s adoption.

It stands out in my throat and hunts me. I want him back, I want him for myself and Arabella. Alex stays later for the night, as we just feed her, change her diapers and watch bad reality shows on MTV skipping Kardashians and Honey Boo Boo, wondering how would we accept Arabella in such a lifestyle but then neither of us are not known-

Speaking of known

I feel like showing the bloody knife.

“You know that the paps will pick me up with a child and no woman, right?” I ask Alex.

Alex remains silent.

“I want to come out publically as gay.” I quickly glance at him and at Arabella who is sleeping in her small basket. “I won’t mention you, I promise. I’ll deny any rumors about us, it’s just about me and I don’t want any questions, although I can’t avoid them. I just-

I’m tired.”

My eyes bore into Alex’s who are pale and I realize how age and misery still managed to catch up in his eyes and he just closes them not to reflect more pain.

“You can-”

“No.” Is his definite reply. “Either we do it like this or we don’t do it-”

Our dialogue is short and sharp.

“I don’t think either of us have an option, Alex. I come back running and so do you.” I feel like grabbing him by the collar but I’m too sleepy, instead I grab his chin. “You’re still on the Kinsey scale and you fucking are homosexual to some extent. Exactly, you’re pan, I fit in and you fit in me.”

His eyes sparkle and he looks down.

“I can’t.” And he grabs my own face, kissing me above my upper lip before licking my bottom lip and pulling it.

“The closet is going to devour you.” I say, closing my own eyes as he keeps pressing kisses against my mouth.

“No, I’ve got you among the socks.” He smirks. I don’t say anything and he just holds my hand as we watch Arabella stir at our row.

Children feel it and children are born out of love, out of the love which you’ve been given, Arabella was born out of Alex. Ironically that the song as well. I wonder if she’d listen to it when she grows up, if Alex will be around.

I had wondered if Alex would ever take his life, the closet strangling him and I’d imagine him drowning, sinking, dying, bleeding, strangling. Everything, every death to make sure it wouldn’t happen

But then maybe I’d be the one who dies and he who remains with dear Arabella.

I don’t think I’d die if a heterosexual couple would have to raise her in my place.

Maybe I shouldn’t give Alex the documents. But then Alex or unknown sexual couple?

Alex is a cheater and a liar, but so is the Bible with all the men and miserable women.

When we first broke up and my parents hadn’t accepted me, it was surreal and I just walked outside, the cold stroking my cheeks with such pain that matched my insides and I had dropped myself into a dark pond. I recall how my clothing turned like heavy soaked wings which started detaching from me and I had taken it off, leaving myself in a plain turtleneck.

Then I felt someone else drop near me and grab me.

I was pulled out with a gasp and massive coughs from either of us.

My ears were all full of water and I just replied to whatever he had asked as,

“What’s the point?”

Alex slapped me across my face, his whole body trembling and he had run out in pajamas, scared of what had I been doing.

“If I’m not a point, find something else then!” He snapped and pulled me up, walking in front of me, only to glance to make sure I was still there.

Sometimes when I’m nearly suicidal I wonder, what if I like our dysfunctional relationship, every kiss because they become rare feel like the first with the thrill of wondering if he’ll ever be mine?

I kept looking at his shaking shoulders and it never occurred to me that it could be tears and I wondered what would happen to my wool coat which I had bought with Alex and how metaphorical was it that it was the first thing I had gotten rid of prior to death, but it was Alex who had pulled me out.

What if I had died and all this now is a massive what if, it’s been so long that I wonder if Alex still has it on his mind now.

We just watch Arabella sleep and I’m thankful she’s calm for the moment as I’ve heard of really not calm children, but she isn’t ill, I guess it’s just a matter of hour before she wakes or starts crying.

I sit on a chair near the craddle, putting my hand on the reel, understanding that now-

What if Arabella was just to make sure I don’t do any critical moves?

I had noticed then when we were heading back to my apartment, that I had steam coming out of my mouth. I wondered how cold was this winter going to be as I had already worn warm scarves in summer as my parents had denied me,

Alex had then shut off his mind, his own thoughts, telling me that it doesn’t matter, trying to bring me back and kissing me with no return.

I had been bad, I thought that it would be me the weakest one, but once I had kissed him in the train station

Alex had pushed me away, heading to the nearest empty M&S.

He had told me to stop it, to remain whatever we have and that we could refrain from making it worse. Alex had told me that we don’t have to tell his parents, so that nothing would happen to us, that it’s fine, homosexual couples have hidden for years and the thin coating of acceptance which the UK has is bollocks, we both knew that, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to keep living like this and it sounded more like my word’s than Alex’s.

It didn’t take him long to start dating Arielle, he had cut off his hair as well, prior to that and no longer he had the long hair I could pull

Maybe I am thinking too much, too many memories and I see him choosing those washed fruits in M&S.

Alex keeps watching me, taking out a comb and I can’t help but start laughing, softly, sometimes he feels like a shell of what he used to be, but I know it’s still him when he drops the comb and tries to walk soundlessly and fails.

I put my hand to his quiff, feeling his gel and I start straightening it, Alex smirking and I see how he had aged, how both of us had aged and how young Arabella seemed to be, to pick both of us up.

What if I’m selfish?

What if Arabella is the Alex I’d never have?

What if I’m just toying with a child?

But then my hands are better than no hands even if my relation is a wreck and the second father will be hidden behind his own hands.

I remember how after we had sex for the first time I felt as if I laid on needles but as soon as I opened my eyes and I saw Alex drifting off, his lips playing a smile, I felt relaxed and I glanced up at the ceiling, grabbing his hand, intertwining our fingers before I shifted closer to him, my whole body burning for touch and I rested against him, both of us trying to be plasticine, to mix ourselves to never see anything else.

The first night was awkward and I was surprised to see Alex as puzzled as I have been. It was a quick game of guessing to make sure she’d stop crying. And when Alex had stood up faster than I had, I realized that we had crawled into my bed for no explicit reason and I really wondered how did Arielle feel about this.

And I also wondered how did it feel like being his first choice, how often they had sex and how cooked what. I wondered why did they spend time apart and it seemed all so different from that time we had nearly been together.

It was only when I went for Alex when I had started thinking about labels, where the fuck would I fit. It was no doubt that I had been attracted for males for so long, I’ve always been, it wasn’t the first desperate wank when you just wonder what the fuck and why are you burning and why don’t you feel the same for the opposite sex, it was new, it was straight forward, it was actually wanting a person. It had been in high school and it had been shrugged off after I had wondered where the hell do my hands go and how far would a girl go and how far can I go.

Obviously with Alex it had been an injection which still aches at night if I shift too much. I know I should stand up, but I can’t, I want to be in my lullaby and frankly, I think I’m falling asleep, my thought messily tumbling apart and I don’t know who I am. All I want is for him to shake this out of me and I wonder how the fuck have I even managed to become a father after all the paperwork and the smoked cigarettes with the constant questionnaires and showing the funds of each fucking week for the past few years.

No, but really, how does it feel to be chosen one who gets cheated on? How does it feel to be the one sitting near the wheel, too occupied to look back?

I still wonder how come she hadn’t knocked on my door and asked me everything, like Alexa had.

I still remember her, it had been way after I had told my parents and me and Alex had split, but we were still together. Alex had loved Alexa, but I was still there and the fact that we had went to Paris together wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping. There were times when our hands were kept to ourselves or there were times like that when we both had said fuck it, there were days where we wouldn’t crawl out of the bed, there were days where we had written four songs and there were days when we were sure when we would come back, it would be different that we could be gay in both meanings of the word.

But nothing of such happened, I remember the short plane ride where Alex had paled and it’s not like we both knew that he had cheated on her, I had always been the main lover on the side. It was weird to see Alexa as someone who Alex had cheated on me with, but with the photos I had wondered if it was finally someone who Alex could shut the closet door with forever. But she wasn’t.

And when she suspected something it made everything worse.

Alex had been at mines.

I was tired and I opened the door shirtless, knowing what was awaiting me. Alex hid in the closet, ironically and Alexa started crying as I just made us tea in the same kitchen. I hadn’t changed the apartment, I’ve had too much Alex in it and I liked the apartment not because I had fucked him against every single one of these walls. It was well... I liked it and I wasn’t the one shying off the memories.

I heard a small thud and I don’t think Alexa heard it, sitting there, not even able to light a cigarette.

“How many months?” She asked, her lips barely moving and I see that she’s pretty and she’s a nice person and all, but hey, I’m on my side. I shouldn’t feel bad for someone who is a cover up for Alex hiding off his relationship with me, I know she’s not the culprit, the culprit would be Alex’s fear and my parent’s denial.

I blow on my cup.

It’s been five years then. Now it’s seven. People get married and have children by now, they go with the flow and buy donuts for tea time, instead I’m playing hide and seek with all of Alex’s beards. I really wonder.

She could have told.

She didn’t. Alexa walked out, saying she doesn’t want to tell anyone, to let anyone know that she had been blind the whole relationship, that all these years Alex had eyes for someone else. I can’t blame her, but I can’t understand her.

I haven’t been on her side, I haven’t seen what’s it like to be a cover up, knowing that Alex has been there for someone else. Maybe I’m blind.

But I know I’m not, Alex come back, rubbing his eyes and I pull him on to of me, knowing that tomorrow he’ll go and I don’t know when he will come back. Today he is everything and tomorrow it’ll be me with the synthetic milk and re-watching all the Disney movies with Arabella, giving her slowly a growing environment. We’ll go outside and we’ll see all the trees go naked and start counting to Christmas without Alex.

“Five years.” I had told her, feeling tired myself and I had walked out of the room, not feeling like seeing her bawl. I walked back to the closet and Alex had given me out a shirt, himself sitting there crying. He’s chosen. I think we all three realized, that well, I still happened to stay all these years with being on the side, while Alexa had to make her choice.

Alex never headed out of the closet, ironically and I hadn’t told her.

Both me and Alexa parted and it’s funny that I had given an interview to her before and she had asked me what was the ideal woman for me.

Once she left I opened the closet, gave my hand to Alex, but he stood up himself and headed back to the kitchen. He started washing the cups after me and Alexa, randomly and we didn’t say anything, just lit our cigarettes, not even sharing one.

I knew he would still not come back to me, but I was poisoned, there was no point in hiding it, it’s been like that with Alexa and I’ll manage it again, if he finds another beard

I honestly don’t know how long it’ll take and if I’ll be willing, but I’ll be here

And now I’m with a child in my arms.

It’s the morning.

I’m feeding Arabella and I honestly wonder, how long will it take for Arielle to find out. But they aren’t as attached and suddenly I don’t feel so scared anymore. Not as scared, which I wasn’t when Alexa showed up.

I’ll be shirtless again and most likely Alex will be there with Arabella crying for both her fathers.


	4. Chapter 4

The thing is that Alex never tried to come out to his parents and at least in the eyes of my parents any sort of in the middle sexuality would be ok. He’s never tried and with each year it gets worse. It was ok in the beginning, both of us walking back to the pub from a cigarette outside, when the pubs no longer had mists of smoke and the smell tingling your insides and passive smoking becoming active from all the amount. 

He had told me he would come out and all would be ok, that we could even get a civil partnership. 

And that had made me stop and he had just smiled at me and I remember how his eyes had been bathing in happiness and he had pulled me close to him, holding the kiss, pressing his body against my own and I had hugged him under his jacket, I couldn’t cry I could just stand there, it was a proposal and the possibility of an open future was in both of our minds, as we had started to peek on what it would be like. 

We hadn’t gotten pissed drunk that night, we had been dunked enough already in what seemed to be a pleasant routine awaiting us and we had started thinking who to tell and what to do.

Matt had known. 

I didn’t think it would be a big deal to come out to my parents so it had been decided to be done first. 

It had been such a slap in the face and with them cutting me off, that I wouldn’t even want to open that pandora box, but it’s not like their words don’t sting me.

They still do.

When I lay in bed I start noticing all the photos which had been discarded and ripped in pieces of my parents. I haven’t told them about Arabella, but I know that they will find out along with the world, it’s still someone popular coming out and who was rumored with models. 

I miss them.

Sometimes I wonder if they do, but then there’s the fact that they even moved house, changed number and told that they don’t want to see what had other men done to me, which is funny, because I’ve only slept with Alex, but they started coming to random conclusions accusing different friends from my childhood they had never approved of, all of them in their eyes were gay and horrid for me, that all should be gone.

It wasn’t even that they were religious, it was the belief that I would never have children of my own or a wife to take care of me, when I knew how to do that, I had cooked from an early age, just out of boredom and some friends had to cook for younger brothers and sisters, so I had helped and it had just gone with me. I knew how to do my laundry thank you very much and when I could be arsed I’d clean up, now with Arabella I had forced myself to make sure everything had been cleaner and it had been. 

I’ve tried to stop smoking but with too many things on my mind, I like to keep my thoughts foggy.

Alex came back in the evening with some fancy handmade toys and I had shown them to Arabella without looking at him.

“Do you think I should come out to my parents?” He had asked softly, taking my hand and then I had looked at him. It’s been seven years which sounds sadly funny to me. 

I want to snap at him, but I don’t, looking at a plush wolf whose language involves squeaking loudly, which catches Arabella’s eyes. I squeak with it again. I smile at her. 

“I dunno. It’s your call, Al, frankly, I’m just your seasonal lover.” I smirk sadly at my own nickname and Alex takes another squeaking toy, it’s funny that it’s amusing her, but there’s some which she doesn’t even register such as the big giraffe which makes a ruffling sound, squeaking apparently is far more attractive. 

Her eyes are light and I wonder if they will darken or if they will remain the same. The hair already has a soft brown shade, also lighter than any of our own. I wonder if there could just fucking spend money on the new thing where you can make an egg cell and a sperm cell from a cheek sell instead of spreading hate on anything which is ‘deviant’ or closing down budgets. But no, obviously new life is bad if it doesn’t come from assholes, but that will never mean that I don’t love Arabella and will not if the chance to have our own child someday, somehow. I think it’s crossed every couple who cannot have children’s mind. 

I’ve tried to get into other men, but frankly in gay bars there are always too much bears and I just feel intimidated because it’s either no one or you can’t even put your foot there and soon enough I leave.

Maybe I’m being too judgmental but first it’s the eyes which I notice that don’t hold the depth which Al has, then it’s the voice which doesn’t soothe me and then it’s the bad taste and sometimes they are too young and I wonder if I’m getting old and if they’re too old we hold different views on Morrissey which don’t seem to resolve.

I’ve taken a man with me once and after I had done the coffee, I just turned around saying that I had one man in my life and that’s the way I want it. And frankly, I think the scattered photos of me and Alex say a lot. I’m happy that the photos I’ve got are the ones only both of us have, maybe some of the other members have some where we are grinning at each other, but not where we are holding hands or laughing at something over a bottle of vodka we had acquired in Moscow. 

“You do realize they can give you a hard time as well? I mean, mine just told me to fuck off, but yours could dunno send pamphlets with like converting you back to being straight and shit.” I feel irritated and back when I was coming out, I was nearly sure that everything would be alright, I really thought it was no big deal. I mean what is the deal anyway which genitals the person I love has and how do we match? 

“I guess you’re right.” Alex exhales and I wonder if I’m digging out my own grave as he shifts closer to me and kisses my cheek. 

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t come out, obviously I want you here by my side, but...” I don’t know whether I should mention my suicide and how insanely depressed I had been as everything had started to fall apart, the jigsaw falling apart with all the pieces still on the table but the image too scary to be put back together even if there is no evidence that it will be scary, just that there would be way less people putting the puzzle together, heavy chance of just me and Al. 

When Alex had decided to date Alexa, I recall Matt calling me and asking how did I feel about this. 

Then he had been in my flat to see me calmly watching television, I didn’t care and it had just been a bit after my suicide attempt and I was still questioning why was I living and why had Alex yanked me out-

I had the image of him yelling at me, saying that all will be ok-

And I had to tell him to fuck off, that no one will ever accept us, that people think there’s much more problems than accepting gay people

and that we will always be the burden of society

and I had cried. Alex had stared, maybe that’s when his own fear took over. I remember how his face had been swallowed by a shadow and he had started crying himself and let himself out of my apartment. 

But when I had realized how stupid I had been for ignoring him, ignoring everyone’s calls was when Matt stormed in and saw what a mess I had turned into. Alex didn’t even bother coming anymore and now everything was reversed, I was the scared one, but no one really broke off anything, even if we had even broken up we were still together, he would still try to kiss my lifeless lips and I would just stare at news channels trying to make everything worse for myself, trying to make me reach another point where I could just escape everything, but I felt like I had no power to actually even get out of my window, glance around and drop. I had no power to wonder where the fuck can I get a gun. I had no power to just drink every single thing which could cause something or even drugs. 

Matt had told me that Alex had gone for a woman and I didn’t even glance at him, saying that it’s bollocks. Matt tried convincing me and left soon enough. 

The next time I had seen Alex his hair had grown and he walked in, stepping over the coats and all the clothes which had been scattered everywhere along with a few empty pizza boxes and random receipts. I had told him he could grow it out as it looked nice, as I had laid sideways on the sofa, flicking through channels, telephone at bay in case my parents would change their wrong minds. But even years passed now, I haven’t received a single call. 

Alex just pulled me up in a sitting position and I felt myself become alive for a moment as his arms were around me. 

He tilted my head up, sat in my lap and kissed me fully. 

I remember how hungry that kiss had been, lips pressed harshly and teeth nearly colliding and how we both kept biting each other’s lips in agony and I don’t know who had been crying, but I felt salt between our lips and took us a long while to part, even if we had been tired, breathing heavily and our lips remained locked for a while. 

It’s funny how you get yanked from depression all of a sudden, it’s a pull and you see how dim everything is, but you’re still elevating. 

He didn’t mention Alexa and I kept it that way, wondering when had the last time been that we had been together with our lips wandering on each other’s bodies and I honestly don’t remember and I couldn’t as Alex took off his shirt and I press kisses anywhere I can, wondering why the fuck wasn’t I doing this sooner and Alex

“I love you. I’m sorry.” I said and I pinned him against the couch. “I really do.”

“I know, it’s fine.” He smiled, but I know that I fucked up. 

We both fucked up.

Alex takes the robot and makes the weird ruffling sound with the robot’s hands and that snaps me out of it. 

He keeps looking at me and I look away embarrassed, wondering how long will everything even last, even if we both come back to each other all the time, but all these years we’ve had so many moments with both of us hiding, that I wonder when will any of us break the barrier finally and I honestly don’t know. 

I don’t think I know anything.

Just as when Matt kept telling me that Alex seemed kind of happy to get his mind off me being on the couch, but that we had both known to who Alex’s smile belonged to. The words still sting to me and I see Alex take Arabella in my hands, as she cries, begging to be carried and I curse at myself for dazing off as he starts waltzing around the room to keep her amused. I feel awful and I take her from him. 

Then Alex feels awful and takes her from me and we follow this bizarre pattern as she watches us both with light eyes, amused before realizing that not much rocking is done and Alex gives me her as I start rocking her fast, as frankly your heart breaks when your child is crying and even if it will give you cramps, you’ll rock harder and I do so. 

She calms down but only if I walk around the apartment and she gets to see different things and I hope she won’t get bored, because I’d be bored if the rooms were my only amusement while rocking. Alex takes more toys and starts following me, squeaking and beeping with everything which makes a noise.

And then there’s the noise of Alex’s phone and I stop for a while, to which Arabella makes a unhappy noise and I go back to rocking. Alex takes his phone out of the mobile, revealing a bunch of missed texts and I see him reading them with a worried expression. 

“I should get going. I’ve been here for two days already.” Is what he says and I just walk away, I mean I rock away to the window and I want a smoke desperately and I hate myself for not training my nicotine addiction away and instead I try to tell myself as if I am smoking to calm myself down, but that doesn’t help and I wish I had gotten anything even nicotine patches, but now it’s too late and Alex follows me jiggling a clown which looks like could be the sixth in the video. 

I don’t know what to say and my reply is delayed already, but I shrug anyway, turning around which obviously isn’t what Arabella wants so she makes more dissatisfied noises, so with a pout I turn around and there’s the motherfucker jiggling the clown, happy to see both of us. 

“Hah, you should be more like Arabella, love.” Alex smirks at me and presses a button which makes a new low beep which leaves the baby in bliss, of course, a new noise and from mister creepy clown. 

I still have the image of him coming back to Arielle. And I can see her with her plastic face and frankly, I have no reason to like her, but neither am I throwing darts at her but hey, I’m not just pissed at her, I’m pissed at Alex as well.

“Just coz she forgives easily, doesn’t mean I do.” I say half-mocking and Arielle texts him again and frankly I have a feeling it’s just minutes before she’d burst the door down. I look at him with the daft clown and I recall him with the clown paint and wishing I had done it as well and we could’ve gone on some swings and it would be funny watching scared moms and maybe better after dark when you can see the holes in sky, like in that story with the moth eating the curtains of the night. It’s funny when you recall your own childhood and you see how lonely it had been, even lonelier than when Alex leaves for whomever, it’s better knowing him and even when we’re apart

I’m better than without knowing him and watching romantic comedies and wondering why I never look at the girls, all the blokes fixed in my mind and appearing when I would touch myself with other guys I’d known, hinting out my sexuality.

I don’t know if I have the guts.

Al.

“Why don’t you stay then?” I ask him and I wonder why haven’t I before, usually it’s him telling me that he has to go and he does, it’s always his decision when to leave. He keeps playing with the clown to make Arabella blow more bubbles, having so much amusement that hopefully she’ll sleep the entire night without begging for rocking. 

I hold Arabella tighter and I see that there’s too many bubbles, so I get a tissue and I wipe them away just for her to make more new ones. 

I don’t think Alex knows the answer either.

“You were asking if you should come out. You can start off by getting rid of people who are just there, making your life...” I can’t say duller. “Less... you?”

I can’t think of anything, if I had been scared of Alexa, I know Arielle is nothing to fear for some reason and I haven’t even gotten attached to her, just spoken a few words, while Alexa had tried to be friends with me, even called me to hang out when Alex had been busy which was awfully bizarre, maybe that’s why she never told anyone, because she had never suspected that out of all potential lovers it was me and that it had been so obvious. I know she’s heavily heartbroken and I can’t blame her, but the difference is that Alex had never given up on me. 

Alex takes out a pack of cigarettes to which I quickly say ‘oi’ and he puts it back. 

“I’m dying for a fag too, if that makes you feel any better.” I say, offering my own suffering. 

I don’t know what I’d do if I knew he was never coming back to me. 

“Yeah, we should both drop smoking for Arabella’s sake, frankly she’d prefer us playing with her toys.” He smirks, already getting bored of all of the functions the clown has to offer, but Arabella’s amused face keeps us going. 

I don’t think I can.

What if Arielle is-

But he’s here.

I rock her lighter, she doesn’t seem to mind for a while, before I take a deep breath

“You don’t have to go back to her y’know and same for coming out. You could just be helping me.” Which is a lie, if we’re seen together, rumors will roll. But the phrase it out. I’m asking him back in, which I haven’t done in a while and I feel like opening a window in winter, regretting the breeze but welcoming the fresh air.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s funny how the tabloids didn’t pick up anything and everyone was left musing what had broken up the perfect couple. 

Alex stayed at mines and it had been summer, so he stayed at the balcony burning every single cigarette until he had burnt them all and had asked me for notebooks. I had ripped everything which had scribbles which would be lyrics later and he had started burning paper, making planes and weird figures which was uselessly taught in primary school or even sooner and then he’d burn them. 

He told me to go buy more cigarettes and then he had started cutting out dinosaurs and burning them as well. 

“I hope you don’t burn that one which looks like me.” I pointed to the one which has a haircut which resembled mine but had strong arms, something which I’d have to workout to get. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep the head.” Alex smirked for once, blowing the smoke out with the cigarette in his mouth and I took my own, scared to touch his and he seemed pretty energized, as if all the energy he had held to have Alexa was now all going to the trash. 

“I slipped that I had loved you when she confronted me and said that I need someone to go to the awards with.” I just blinked at that sudden confession, hell, if I was Alexa, I’d hit him. 

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Al.” But he has more to say. 

“I told her that I didn’t love her anymore. Maybe I’m a blabbermouth. I mean, we’ve spent more time together and the album. I dunno, fuck.” He started cutting out some buildings which are burning and if I was a child psychologist I’d be concerned with the amount of bizarre drawing he’s doing, all that is missing is a cock with numerous heads. “I dunno, I guess I just fell out of love. You were avoiding me when I met her. Fuck, I was daft.”

I gulped, feeling guilty for all that had happened and I took a random paper and start cutting an alligator.

“Why the fuck are you cutting out an alligator?” Alex had asked me biting his cigarette and I just shrugged to which Alex’s hand started playing with my hair. “No, really.”

“Coz I feel bad, it’s going to protect me.” I eased at him playing with my hair, threading his fingers into it and I was happy it had grown longer and I felt his fingers slide to my cheek and stroke it with his thumb. 

“Then I’m killing that cunt.” And my eyes snapped open. “Not leaving anyone between you and me, mate. Not again.”

Arabella had fallen asleep, now with Alex rocking her like mad and me laying in a bizarre tired position on the couch. Fuck, how I’m supposed to do this by myself? But then isn’t this just like the first month. So far she’s hated everything on Alex’s iPod, well, nearly everything, some rap stuff he had listened to when he was a teen, which made me thankful that Arabella wouldn’t scream for it. It was ironic in my eyes that she had liked the White Stripes, which I just felt like listening to out of the blue. 

“Do you think I can put her in her bed?” Alex whispers, barely making any noise and I nod. He goes to the room and puts her in her wee bed. We’re not too far off from her bedroom and frankly I’ve had thoughts or rather I had wanted Alex too much. He walks back and all of a sudden, I feel... I don’t feel alone. 

I pull him on top of me as soon as he gets near me and his lips are on my own and are tongues are rubbing. I slide my hand under his black shirt and he already starts unzipping my pants. 

My mind is racing and I hope she won’t wake up not even as much for our sake, but for the fact that I want her to rest as she’s been happily entertained by both of us and blown enough bubbles to bust a whole kleenex box. 

I don’t know if I should pull away

I don’t know how long will he stay.

I don’t know how long will he be faithful

I don’t know Al sometimes, which is funny, because I do, I know he’s fucking scared. I know every stupid thing he’s done, I know that one time he tried cocaine and it went wrong and we had left ourselves wondering what the fuck had been in that mix. 

I pull his lip and Alex moans, trying to get me out of my pants. 

I lean back and I see him and it feels like I’m seeing him for the first time, when I can’t believe that he’s with me, that we’re together even if it’s highly twisted. 

I pull off his shirt and I start biting his neck as he pulls down both my underwear and pants. I strip him, while biting his neck. 

Both of us are breathing heavily at this point as we are both naked and on top of each other. I intertwine my fingers with his and I notice how his quiff is ruined with all the ruffling and my hair being short, I’m guessing is nearly untouched. I trace his cock with my finger, before taking it in my hand and I start stroking him slowly, causing Al to pull my lip and I watch him, barely holding myself from touching myself. 

“I love you, Miles.” I blink, feeling a bit flushed and I kiss him on the lips, holding the kiss. Alex smirks as we both pull back and he moans, leaning his head back, exposing his neck even more and I take the opportunity to suck on it. “Do you still love me?”

I am surprised and taken a bit back at the question and I kiss his neck again.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” I push myself a bit up to be on one level with his eyes, still stroking him.

“Because I’ve been a wanker for the past... years.” I guess he wanted to say few, but it’s been more than a while. I just shrug, increasing the speed. 

“Al, I love you, it’s fine, I can’t just kick you out of the closet. You saw me, I- I don’t think I want to see that.” And I recall my suicide incident, how I had just fell into the lake, the jump seemed natural, some natural sick progression which the world had wanted me to do, but Alex had yanked me out of death. I’d do the same, I’ve been doing the same only the suicide attempts had been different, the target had been life instead. 

“I know, that’s what... scared me.” Alex closes his eyes in pleasure as I start tracing his tip with my fingers. I kiss him again before I slowly slide a finger inside him. He bites his lips, holding a moan and I start making out with him, ruffling his hair, feeling how harsher his hair is from the gel, makes me smile and I keep kissing him.

“I’m here.” And Alex spreads his legs wider and I position myself before going inside him, causing both of us to moan. He starts thrusting with me and I can’t help but feel over the edge already, pulling his lips, sucking, my hand back to his cock and stroking it.

“I love you.” I don’t know who keeps saying it or if it’s a dialogue of the same feeling as we keep thrusting and in the end, Alex shifts position going on top and to be honest it just takes a few thrusts before I come from him going up and down and watching him

fuck

I come, lifting myself up to kiss him and he comes as well, moaning loudly and crushing me in a hug. 

We collapse on opposite sides of the couch and I wonder if it’s because we’re not to used to each other’s touch. I close my eyes and I’m still breathing through my mouth and so is Al, he pokes me in the side with his leg and I nod stretching my hand behind to get the pack of kleenex to clean both of us.

“We could take a bath, but if Arabella wakes up, I’ll leave you there to drown.” I smirk and find the power to crawl back to him and kiss him again. Alex just smirks and keeps kissing me. Eventually we both fill up the tub with some weird bubble bath soap I had bought in Lush just for the smell and I’m guessing we will be smelling like fairies by the end of it. We both get in, it’s not hot enough for me, but I know Alex prefers it closer to lukewarm. I kept the door open, since the bathroom is literally besides the baby room. For once I’m happy the flat isn’t too big.

I stick my head under the water and I feel Alex’s fingers playing with my hair and I emerge to see him.

The only person I’m still scared of is Alexa, she still scares me, because unlike Arielle she just wasn’t there to cover things up, it was because Alex was scared and couldn’t deal with me just sitting there, waiting for my parents to call. Funny, I was more scared when he had been choosing a ring for Alexa than him being with Arielle. But I don’t have the guts to ask him if he’ll leave her. 

Obviously I was first, but what if the second is always better?

It had been weird, getting Al back.

It had even been when Alexa had been home with Alex and she had opened the door, I had tried to look better, I really tried. I had been hungry from our encounter but Al had left in the morning, which was the first of many in the years to follow. She had been in and I saw how cute she was. Obviously Alex would go for someone attractive. His hair had grown even more from that encounter which marked his first cheating. We all sat down, drinking tea and Alexa just knew that there had been a massive fallout between me and my parents, she didn’t question it, was surprised that I hadn’t insisted harsher on truce, but then I couldn’t. Truce would mean living with a woman. That was the only thing the other side wanted and would put up to consideration. Cheating was seen just as unholy for once and sex wasn’t seen as a necessity, something to never obsess over. 

That’s why when I had been younger and the porn magazines would be passed over I really struggled to understand why would I want a girl on her knees, but I had still done it, feeling my hand numb and I hadn’t done it too much, until I realized that well, you do need to wank. 

When Alexa had left to the bathroom I had grabbed Alex fast and pressed a harsh kiss against him and he didn’t kiss me back at first, but then pulled me closer, ruffling my hair, but when she was out, we were back and sitting.

Alex had offered to take me back home and well, not knowing anything which was only known to a few people and even then, they had kept their mouths shut, we had just started making it official when my parents had cut off the wires giving me confidence. 

Once we were out I had been itching to touch Alex and my whole body was aching, it was as if I was rediscovering my sexuality and my attraction and his hair seem to attract me, it was long and I had too many images of it in my head, playing with it, pulling it, threading it post sex. Everything. Alex had caught me staring, but he didn’t do anything.

When we had headed back, it was the same thing all over. It was both of us on top of each other, but we didn’t have any conversation, we had just moaned or asked each other to go faster, switch positions, nagged that the rug wasn’t a good idea and had shifted to the bed. Went for a quick break, both of closing our eyes before fucking again. I won’t even remember it in massive detail, just that I had felt empty as Alex was about to leave.

“You know. We could-” I had started, but instead Alex had glared at me, putting on his jean jacket, leaving half of it tucked with the jacket. He just shook his head.

“Miles. You freaked out. I freaked out. That’s it.” 

“You cheated on her twice with me, Al. Surely, there is nothing between the both of you!” I had said and the covers had been around me, I had felt cold and I felt that I was slipping into oblivion again, wondering why had he dragged me out of the water. 

“What if I love her?” And I wished I had lost all of Alex at the moment when he had said it and went to the corridor to do his shoes and leave, without looking back. I had really wished that he had left me, left me in that water. But I knew I wouldn’t harm myself, everything was just going to repeat itself, every damn nightmare until I would memorize them all. 

I should’ve reminded him that I loved him still. 

I close my eyes and I try not to wince as Alex finds the odd family of rubber duckies which had been given by a fan and starts playing with them, putting them in a line, but soon enough they swim away.

“When did you start fancying me?” I ask Al, sure enough that I had asked it a billion of times. Alex thinks for a small while, blowing wind against the rubber ducky as it doesn’t even get close to reaching me, so I help him and get it to my side. 

I don’t know why aren’t we together. 

Alex smirks and gets closer to me. 

“When we were recording the album.” He thinks it’s funny and even pokes my nose with a rubber duck which looks pretty shady with some sun glasses. I watch the duck from up close and it looks like some weird crook. I should lock that shit up. 

“Aw, fuck off. You told me you loved me way before that, you twat.” I mumble lovingly and pull him closer into a hug. 

“Surely when you wore eyeliner.” Alex smirks. But thinks for a bit more, maybe just taking the piss. “Yeah, I’ve got an exact moment.” 

“When we had both fallen asleep on the floor after listening to every single vinyl you had, skipping a bunch and drinking some wine I had gotten recommended after we had gone big. I was scared of some gig and you had just forced me to drink. Right before I had fallen asleep I started recalling Matt who stopped hanging without us and I realized that well... I had enjoyed it.

I had really enjoyed being with you, even if in my head I was heavily drunk and I didn’t want myself to wake up in the morning, forgetting that I love you. 

You were passed out and I had actually bothered, I fucking bothered to write down in my notebook that I loved you.” And I can see Alex with half his hair standing vertically from the bad attempt at hair gel and his eyes in kohl as well, as we had decided to see if he looked good in it and in the end he ended up with arrows and it was crooked because I was laughing so hard. 

He had told me he had burnt a notebook in Paris, just walked outside and lit it and he was complaining that it wasn’t burning too fast and when it did, the ash had flown against his face and he mocked himself, that what he wrote, won’t really leave him.


	6. Chapter 6

_I honestly wondered if forever had been for me, if I was ok with waking up to the same person and seeing them onwards from age 21, someone who I had met when I was 17. Was it ok? I had been obscure and heavily covered by another piece of thick fabric over Miles’ eyes and I could see his lips, but what if I could imagine someone else?_

_Looking back, nothing was in place yet, we had still felt not too comfortable with even holding hands and maybe the eternity I had been imagining wasn’t the one awaiting for both of us._

_And then I had seen her, it was weird to approach someone else, all the girls were knocked down and you had approached me. I had been the one who snapped, taking you with me._

_I thought of our males as well, still confused about my attraction as it was equally weighted in both hands._

_I had really thought about other men and with Miles crawled up against the sofa._

_It had been odd, him shooing me away saying that he could never see me again, because nothing will last. I was never as close to anyone as he had been to his parents, we’d just eat together and break the crackers at Christmas._

_While Miles felt on the edge of everything_

_and when he had jumped_

_I had only thought of dragging him out_

_and I had thought that if my love wasn’t enough_

_I don’t want to give it._

_I don’t know what had crossed my mind then and it had been getting worse._

_And there she was with her curious eyes._

_Sometimes you fall asleep with people, who aren’t even worth a pinky of your ex, but you still do it. While I had kissed her it had been different from with Miles, it wasn’t about her lips or how my lips had taken the lipstick from hers, it was about the fact that I had been cheating_

_and I wanted that forever back with Miles, but maybe because I knew it wasn’t coming back._

Were the words Alex had scribbled to me once we had considered getting back together even with Alexa. I had read them before and even more when he had fallen asleep, rereading his old journal entries to get some lyrics, some more concentrated misery for a change.

Paris when I look back was surrounded by pleasant memories, because I don’t want to recall the screaming at each other telling both of us to just go for it. One of us always stepping back, yet whenever any of us wanted a shag we’d go for it, giggling even, throwing the bed covers off and sucking each other. 

I had started flicking even more, I still do sometimes and Alex just watches me.

Paris kept getting worse, which is funny because it’s been up and down, like once I had asked why hadn’t he called Alexa for the past few days and there had been a piercing silence, no glares, nothing had reached his eyes, instead he suggested eating in the garden and I had followed and it had been night already. I wondered if he had cried, I wondered what the fuck would happen. We had moments when we’d start drunkly dancing and I had wondered why are we in such a whirlwind?

Why can’t we just be together?

Why can’t we?

The thought of recording an album I think burst from the ashes of what we had been, as Alex had started coming to me more recently and sometimes we wouldn’t talk, we would just hold each other, I’d just open the door and fling him against the wall, dropping to my knees and undoing his jeans and he’d been hard already.

I have no idea what we’ve been doing.

“Miles, I have to go.” Alex sighs and I know he should at some point and he’s been getting texts, it’s both usual for him and Arielle to ignore each other, but I just nodded as I started playing with the bottom of his shirt, which would’ve raised eyebrows, but today it was different. He went to peek on Arabella, grabbed his leather jacket and started heading towards the door, not looking back.

“Do you want me to apologize, is that what you want?”

_Sometimes I wish you’d just tell me to go away, but that’s the thing besides the first time, it’s always been me who stood up and gave in, wondering how would the world crumble again._

Alex, like burnt turns around and his hands are in his pockets and he looks down and shakes his head. 

“No. We’ve both fucked up and I don’t know... why. I’ll see you.” And he waves and walks off to which Arabella starts screaming loudly so I stand for a second and I want to yank Alex’s hand and pull him in, but I don’t, feeling loneliness slap me across the face as I go back in and grab her instantly, start rocking her for a while, hearing the door unlock, but I keep rocking her, making sure it’s not just her being grumpy from a woken dream and go towards the kitchen to see Alex warming up the milk. 

“I won’t leave while she’s crying.” I just blink and Arabella, cries a bit louder, actually much louder and we both start fumbling with the milk heater and pressing the wrong buttons at once, until I push Alex’s hand away and let it heat up faster. 

“I’m not a bad dad, ok.” I feel frustrated and tired.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I can help.”

“I’m ok being a single dad.”

_Maybe it’s better when I’m alone, but I can’t keep alone, I keep clinging to someone, I get an one-night stand and I’m the one with the morning kisses and the arranged date, because I’ve stepped the line already._

She ends up eating and I sit there, still heart broken and Alex leaves in the end, we don’t say anything and I’m left alone with Arabella. I wonder sometimes what would she ever tell me and Alex and how will she be when she’ll grow up. I wonder if Arabella was her mother’s bad guess and maybe I should’ve suggested a gender neutral name somehow, but I don’t know. I wonder when she’ll start bringing other people over and I’ll have to give her the sex ed talk. I wonder when she’ll talk and I feel bad that I want her to listen, because she absorbs everything which happens in this household.

I just wish I could give her more love, because I do love her, but maybe I’m thinking of Alex too much. Once she’s done she starts crying again and I start rocking her for a long while, my whole being scared that I can’t calm her down, so I take two toys at once and start fiddling with them with the other hand, my left hand already numb from holding her, so I switch arms, careful not to drop her.

Funny, when you think that it’s hard to hold babies, it’s really not, a bit scary, but it’s comforting and I pull her closer to me, feeling her warmth and I sigh happily as she relaxes and I gently kiss her forehead. 

_Sometimes I wish we were still friends, laughing and Miles had given me this shirt with his then band and I had worn it live. I’m lying. We’ve always been into each other. Miles had been flushed the rest of the night and watched me and even then we had stayed the night together, Miles on the floor, but he made sure to watch me take it off._

I tried to dettach myself further from Alex we both tried and that’s why I had made my own record, but I still ended up calling him, because in my head as I tried banning him from my apartment, calling was still ok. So we talked a lot, played guitar a lot. 

Arielle is ok, with her and Alex not as attached and it was ok, just the fact that I didn’t like her in her position at all, as if she had the crown which landed in her hands for a misunderstanding and the world was watching.

Oh, the world was watching.

There are many ways I can come out.

There is twitter, there is facebook, there is instagram, there is NME and every possible magazine which will be excited to publish it. I had called Alex this morning when I had woken up and after Arabella had decided it was time for her to be entertained by every thing in the house and the window seemed most appealing and reading a few articles on the internet on “mom” websites, I honestly wondered if I was the only male who even checked. Looking at it, well, it felt as if no man cared really and I feel disgusted by all, like even when you turn on television, it’s not even sometimes about the lack of LGBT visbility but rather how both genders are portrayed and it annoys me. Not only I don’t exist or I’m the friend in the corner but I should never even go close my kid or single dads are seen as massive achievements, while moms are judged. I’m no better, I was just as confused by how to feed the baby, which dippers are better and everything, it just so happens I was born with a penis and I am cisgender and that’s it and automatically I get some benefit, but being gay takes it all away sometimes. 

Arabella’s mom had to choose if she was ok with me being gay, to which she didn’t care but such cunts as Russia do. 

In the end I watch Mulan with Arabella, knowing that she’s too young and when Alex calls, I try to ignore that it’s him on the phone and I tell Arabella that it’s ok to be who you are. I keep talking to her during the movie and I leave Alex on speaker, maybe irritated or maybe lonely to a massive extent. 

In the end I end the call with Al and get Arabella ready putting her in a polka dot onesie as she blows bubbles, displeased but she doesn’t cry thankfully and I get the baby carriage out, feeling anxious and wondering if the photos will appear. 

Should I just instagram her? It’s not that no one knows Lila Grace’s face for instance and in the end, the commotion will occur, how does she look like, who is the mother, obviously presuming that I’m the biological father. We go outside and I nod to a neighbor, happily moving faster until I’m outside and I make my way to the park and I get a bunch of curious faces and smiles, people peeking in and smiling at Arabella who watches the sky and I can’t blame her, I would do the same.

I’m sweating, anxiously, trying to get to the park, not even sure what is less likely to cause a stir. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m alone for now without Alex, he would surely attract attention, but in the end I see someone with a camera as I get to the park and stop, sitting on a bench.

“Shit.” I mutter as the guy tries to get closer, hiding behind the bushes, but his hair is seen clearly along with his camera. I watch him, as if I’m a lion in a cage, get closer, out of the bushes and soon enough he’s just taking photos of my face. He doesn’t ask me anything.

I stand up and that’s when he asks me whose baby is it. I will get shot by the publicist. He tried to convince me to do an interview but I just didn’t want to and Arabella needs fresh air. 

I just ignore the bloke and keep walking on. The photos had been taken and I’m even happy that none were taken exactly of Arabella, at least the ones I’ve noticed. We stop at the newsagents and I check the headlines to remember how they will look before I will see them tomorrow in Al’s hands. 

Maybe I should tweet something before people think I’ve abducted a baby. But then I’ve been told to keep my head down, but then what would that do? People think I’m straight and have linked me with models, what good does it do?

People come out, people inspire people.

I take out my phone and I close my eyes.

It’s weird.

I feel like I’ll be added to some other circle.

Well, for sure I’m not putting her on instagram. I open twitter, at least it’s ok if it’s short. I’ve been on hiatus for a while, so maybe it won’t be such big news. I start throwing the phone up and Arabella watches me and I look at her soft blue eyes. I don’t think she’d want a coward dad.

What if she’s gay too?

The sooner I do it, the less commotion later. 

I sigh and force myself, I’m going after my own thoughts. 

Because if I was a teenager and someone came out, it would different or when I had been kicked out by my parents,

if someone who I cared would come out

fuck.

Arabella kicks the wall of the carriage and I take her out of it, putting her besides me on the sofa and I give her the clown. 

C’mon, Miles, you should be with Arabella.

“Proud- No, sounds like shite. Arabella, darling what do you think?” Arabella just does bubbles. 

Maybe I should call Al?

“Before any dumb rumor spreads, I’m a proud father”

I keep retyping too many ideas as I take Arabella’s little hand and she watches me. 

Fuck. I erase everything

“#proudgaydad” and I send it. But I turn off the mobile and start biting my lips, because I can’t smoke, not in front of Arabella, I don’t want to cause more damage than I might’ve done for my own sanity. 


	7. Chapter 7

“MILES!” My name gets called as I hear someone pounding the door loudly and Arabella stirs. I swear and open my eyes to see the ceiling and have my daughter lay to my left in those weird beds which get attached to your own, as if the baby is sleeping with you. Well, technically she is. The banging stops and I wake up as I stroke Arabella’s little hand and I stand up, still getting silence. I put on a t-shirt and get the door, opening to see Alex, just as I expected with a newspaper in his hand and he shows me the cover with me looking confused, the tweet as the headline and Arabella in the baby carriage. 

I wave him in and I take it, noticing a bunch of other press under his arm. We head to the bedroom where Arabella is sleeping and I flick through all of them, some ask the question whether I am with Alex Turner, some say that surely we had a fling, some don’t mention it at all and apparently I even got a honorable mention in NME which was also due out today on the last page and for the next week they promise to cover this even better. But yeah, there’s still The Sun claiming that they will speak to the “mother” who had slept with me and is doing charges. 

I’m surprised at NME because I always thought that out of all people they would never say I’m gay because well, they love the Arctic Monkeys and I could never see them bite their own hand that feeds, the audience. Now, I’ll be known as the gay mod singer. I’ll have gay in front of me, it’s a good thing from my point of view, but all the close minded people are now chopped off and well, frankly there’s too many of them and they feed you. 

“Matt and Nick got a call and James too. Everyone wants to know if we’ve fucked, since your phone is off. I got two paps outside, but couldn’t bother. Some just want pictures of the baby. Everyone is taken back, since you’ve kept it pretty hush-hush.” Alex says and a bit hurt himself that I had told him not too much before I had taken Arabella fully in my custody. I glance at Arabella and we walk out as I leave the door open, enough for her not to get woken up and for me to hear even a light grunt.

I don’t know what to say and instead I hug Alex and he’s taken by surprise and hugs me back. 

“I should really say this...” He stops and holds me tighter, one hand on my head. 

“Your parents called.” My eyes widen. 

“I never really changed my number and they said they can’t reach you.” He swallows and presses a kiss against my forehead.

“What did you say?” It’s been nearly seven years. 

“They said your phone was off and indeed it was. They said they want to see the baby and they want to talk to you.” I push Alex away in fury and regret it instantly and I’m shaking. So now when they have a grandchild they are ok with talking to me? 

“Did you tell them to fuck off?” I ask my chin shaking and I hug myself, Alex just stares at me and I push every single attempt he does to hold me. He simply nods.

“I said... that you don’t want to talk to them and well... they asked if we’re still together and I said yes. Just for them to think if they want a son-in-law as well. Because they’ve done their fair share...” Alex trails off and I look up.

“What?” I ask and it dawns on me, they had called him too. Alex sighs and grabs me by the wrist and I take his hand, staring at him horrified. It’s one thing when you’re the one humiliated but it’s another when it’s your beloved. I’ve even chucked the fact that the told my parents that we’re together, but the fact that they’ve approached him as well. 

“They had called me a few weeks after they lost contact with you.” Alex keeps staring at my feet. He raises his eyes. 

“You were miserable and suicidal.” He makes his point.

“Go on.” I don’t think I’m breathing anymore.

“They said they’d resume contact if we broke up.” I slap Alex hard. Alex just flinches and I see the red mark come to life on his cheek and tears swell up but not due the hit. 

“IS THAT WHY YOU BROKE UP?!” I yell at him and I wake Arabella up and Alex motions at her and he goes to check on her and I just lower myself on the floor and I start sobbing, hating my parents even more and I can’t stop

“Miles, I wanted you off the ground, but even when I broke up they’d keep saying until you’d start dating and... then I just got pissed and started well... seeing you again.” I hear Alex and he walks out with a curious Arabella. 

I press the back of my head harder against the wall, feeling my head ache and I keep sobbing and my daughter is staring at me surprised. 

“Y-you... broke i-it o-off... it’s all my fault.” And I start bawling and Alex sits besides me and Arabella just watches me until she kicks me, which makes Alex smirk.

He puts an arm around me, looking ahead, Arabella watching both of us until she gets bored and starts sucking on Alex’s shoulder to which he tells me to wait a bit and gets her a dummy to suck on. 

“They’re willing to resume but obviously, they just want to see Arabella, no me.” Alex continues and I just start violently shaking my head.

“I’ve been without them for seven years and I’ve tried to commit suicide, I was depressed and they were off ignoring me and asking you do bullshit. I don’t think I’ll be judged at the pearly gates if I keep the silence. Fuck, it’s not even silence- Give me your phone.” I turn and look at Alex.

“What?” In his accent it’s more of a ‘wot’ and he hands me his phone confused, I open the last calls and Alex just watches me. I dial the right number.

I hear her voice, picking up the phone and then my fathers.

They both ask if it’s Alex and what the fuck does he want.

“No, it’s me, Miles.” Arabella stretches out to the phone and I lean a bit off, angry. I hear the silence and how their voice change, as if it’s Satan himself giving me flowers and some dream for a dirty deal. 

“I always wondered why is family so holy because if we were just random people, nothing would’ve connected us and get what even being fucking blood related doesn’t help.”

“Miles, darling, tell me the baby is from a sweet girl and you can come over to the weekend. Surely you can’t be dating that daft lad, Alex all these years, right? We should christen her, so that the Devil won’t give her any impure thoughts.” I clench my knuckles. I can’t even call her mom. Since when the fuck are they religious? Is religion now welcoming every bigot who never even though of God until now?

“Read the damn press. And stop calling Alex. Stop calling me. Actually, you won’t because I happen to be gay and you know what, I adopted, yes, some people are more openminded than you are and well...” I make a pause where I hear her crying and I’ve never felt so pleased before. 

“I think we’ve parted ways year ago, mother. And it’s ok. You weren’t there and I can happily raise my daughter in a gay household with her parents having gay sex.” And I press the button and hurl the phone across the corridor, making Alex flinch but sigh once he sees that it didn’t break into shards. 

I feel furious and I just head out to the balcony, not caring and I start playing with my lighter, thankfully Alex with Arabella and I feel furious and I’ve still got tears running down my cheeks and I wonder what else should I’ve said and I feel furious, the feeling mutating in my body and I wonder what else should I do

What else should I do

And I glance down and I head back into the kitchen, grabbing a specific box with two cigarettes, the only sane idea I had and I go to smoke one, letting my brain relax, butmy whole body is still trembling and I feel like I could bite their heads off and I feel frustrated. 

A thought starts sprouting in my head.

Alex had told my parents we were dating and he’s not with Arielle right now and I glance back to see him rocking Arabella again. I should give her first meal of porridge today, later on and I watch him and he approaches me with the balcony door between us. I blow smoke at him and he rolls his eyes. It feels finally refreshing to smoke a cigarette and I feel guilty for it as well. 

I’ll shower again, change clothes and chew gum, that’s the best I can think of.

“I love you both.” I say and I wonder how insane I seem with my face all red from crying and I know they can both just guess what I’m saying and I watch them and Al turn around and I stub out my cigarette, wanting to be with them.

Does it mean we’re dating again?

Does it mean that things are finally turning for the best and I want to scream in frustration to make sure they stay that way. I walk in, quickly taking off my shirt and underwear, getting some gum and rushing towards the shower.

I can’t stop grinning. 

Al is busy with Arabella. I get the water as hot as I can, feeling it burn me and give me back feeling. Everything is done in a rush to miss nothing.

I dry myself as I see him rocking her to sleep as I come out. I grab him and I pull him into a kiss, guiltily putting Arabella on one of the small baby rocking chairs and I pull him closer. I am losing my mind as he kisses me with some hesitation due to my sudden mood swing.

I run my hands through his hair, messing up his quiff and feeling the roughness of his gel against my fingers. 

“Please, please, tell me we’re dating again.”

“Who said we never were?” And I feel like it’s the first time we’ve kissed and I have realized with his words, that he loves me as well. I feel like it’s Christmas and we’re opening crackers again and all the hats are red which seems very funny to us and we’ve gotten the same shitty prizes twice, so we go out and buy even more crackers. I wonder how will this year be as well, how we’ll drag a real Christmas tree again and now we’ll have Arabella who will be staring the balls and grasp them and I’ll have to make sure that we buy shatter proof ones. 

I grab him closer and I pull him into a kiss, before grabbing Arabella in my hands again. Shit, by my age shouldn’t I be this happy at an engagement or something?

But I can’t help but realize that I’ve told my parents to fuck off finally after all these years of silence, sure I haven’t said everything I’ve thought, but that’s enough, now I can close the pandora’s box and I can celebrate. I’m rocking Arabella nearly dancing and Alex watches both of us, a bit flushed. 

“Can I get a cigarette, too, then?” He smirks. I shake Arabella lightly with my head as she turns her head to look at me with her confused big blue eyes. I wonder if they’ll darken to green or a light shade of brown or if they will remain the same or maybe she’ll have gray or what if her hair darkens as well?

I stop.

“Why do you need one?” I ask, a bit dazed and Arabella shifts in my arms to look at Alex, confused as well and says some weird syllable and I just grin at her, but Alex still causing me concern. 

“You do realize I need to talk to Arielle.” 

It had started off as a rumor, it had never made it to the press properly, everyone had been blinded that Alex had broke up with Alexa and that was the main news which had been in everyone’s minds. The fact that we had started going to events was seen as Alex just being heartbroken and me trying to cheer him up. 

Alexa had kept her mouth shut and the only people who knew about us had been my parents, the bands and a few close friends, but other than that it was just us. 

But then there had been rumors and there was that one photo which seemed to be discarded whenever we are mentioned. It was some small press it was a picture of us holding hands very briefly and rather blurry, but it’s not seen that well and as soon as that surfaced Alex and me were smoking.

Then there had been the call asking if we were dating and if we wanted to come out, bringing out the fact that we both look very attached to each other. It had been paid to keep the mouth shut, counting how much damage would be caused, the world just isn’t ready, I mean, even when you look at such simple artists at Lady Gaga, she’s not gay and has no high profile girlfriend. 

Arielle had been chosen simply, she would still fit in the type that could be seen as girly as Alexa was, both brunette and had been seen at a concert, letting everyone else speculate on something else. 

I had watched all of this emerge, but I never had the guts to ask Alex back.

We had both agreed on a break, I was too much of a wreck and I wanted to be the one tearing all the photos apart and Alex had walked to me and told me it was over, as I had cut my parent’s faces in half and cried over too much loss, two birds with one stone. 

I didn’t like Arielle, I just saw her as a cheap replacement and I didn’t find her funny and honestly, I barely felt bad for Alexa because she had taken my Alex at the right damn time, because Arielle seemed like a kick in the balls both for me and Alexa.

I had seen her when Arielle and Alex were together.

It was funny that it was at Tesco over the magazines.

“So... you’re not dating Alex?” She had asked picking up Vogue with her own article, ironic.

“No.” I sighed.

“Cool, we both lost then.” And she had snapped at it, smiling at me and walking away, the slap she had never given me before for sleeping with her boyfriend whenever she wasn’t looking. 

"Oi." I said after her. "Al ain't a game y'know. Just coz he's with someone else now..."

I stopped .

She could leak it.

She had all rights and everyone would feel bad for the straight woman who got cheated on by a "gay" guy.

I didn't know what else to say, so I grabbed the NME with The Horrors trying to understand the damn hype around them.


	8. Chapter 8

The fact that the world is scared of gay people scares me to no end and it had. I was slowly coming in terms with myself, I was still me, I am me, I just like men, specifically Alex and always have, but it had been hard to accept myself when I was alone with Al gone to women.

France was like a giant eraser, crossing out Alexa and she had taken it as boy time, I guess it was also when we didn’t hold and drank too much late in the night after we’d be breathless from fucking. I still don’t know how come we had managed to be so carefree up to the point that we had held hands outside, let James Ford take photos of us kissing which are well hidden and James’ promise to keep silent.

I don’t know what had dissolved in us and it had all started in the morning when I still wanted to sleep on and Al had headed out for the groceries and when I awoke he had already breakfast, for some reason a French newspaper and I just sat silently, still not used to the fact that he had decided to go forward with the project and just now when we had maybe slept once and that was it, but his eyes seemed soft and caring, something I was nearly sure I wanted to shove away, he had a girlfriend. But he was just there and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cross that line, but he just looked at me as I started cutting the waffles, holding myself together as he just walked to stand behind me and put his arms around me.

I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t say anything, I could just reply to his touch as he stroked my cheek with his fingers and then he leaned and tilted my head to match his and we had kissed, it wasn’t slow, it was because I had been holding for so long.

I loved him too much and it was a bizarre game of cards where we were both bluffing and not even raising the bet by much or skipping turns.

We didn’t even stop eating, we had headed to Alex’s bedroom and I remember how my whole body was beating fast, how everything had been pulsing as he had pressed me against the bed, I wonder how much weight had been lost between us as he kept frenching me, pressing me harder, removing my plain shirt, the jeans, the underwear and I felt a bit uncomfortable naked first, but my thought had vanished as he started trailing his tongue down my chest and my stomach and I was far too hard already, my eyes shut and a moan escaped my lips as he had taken me in his mouth, digging his nails into my hips, holding me down.

Shit.

How long has it been?

How fucking long has it been?

I kept moaning at all his sucking, licking and stroking and he was still fully dressed from the outside, even in a leather jacket and it oddly turned me on, as he kept blowing me and trailing his fingers down my chest, pulling my nipple and I pulled him slightly by his hair to suck harder as I started thrusting into his mouth. Alex held me down even further, which caused me to swear and plead.

He drives me insane.

Alex slowed down on the sucking and looked at me in the eye and I just kept breathing hard. Fucker. He knew I wanted him bad.

He took me out of his mouth and damn Alex is grinning.

“What do you feel like?”

Is he serious?

“Fuck what?” I breathe.

Alex pulled me up and sucked on my tongue, I didn’t feel anything anymore, I was too turned on. I was very close to wanking myself.

“I want you on fours.” I blinked. I had still managed to blush lightly, unused and Alex just kept making out with me. We pulled back and I still managed to feel a bit dazed, but I turn around and I felt Alex trailing kisses down my back. I heard him taking off his own jeans finally and soon enough his underwear was discarded as well, but he kept the jacket on and I feel the leather sleeves brushing against my skin as he held me by hips with one hand as he positioned himself and I moaned, Alex finally going in and as he slowly started stroking me.

It’s far too torturous and I couldn’t stop moaning, as Alex went in and out and I started moving myself, too desperate for release. Alex leaned down pressing a kiss against my cheek, biting my neck, biting my neck and finally thrusting harder, Al himself moaning hard already as we both keep thrusting harder and harder

and Al came and I just followed, screaming, as Alex kept thrusting as we were still coming and then we just collapsed on the bed, Alex trailing kisses on my neck as I tried to catch my breath.

Arabella just wants to be carried around, so we take turns and in the end, we’ve still got Arielle in our heads and I wonder if I should continue the topic as Arabella seems to slowly start lulling off to sleep and I can’t help but look at Alex as he looks into the distance and I looked at his nearly gone quiff and I wonder what the fuck will happen anyway, which direction we would be heading now.

“If you break up with Arielle-” But he interrupts me and looks back at me and then at Arabella who is already back in her dreams and I wonder for a while, how will she be, and too many questions will only be answered in years. It’s odd how your mindset changes once you’ve got a baby in your hands who becomes yours and who might love you unconditionally. But then she’ll grow up knowing that I’m gay and Al, well, Al.

“I know. I’ll have the press on me as well.” And I wonder if his own fear of coming out was a factor as well or was it my parents all along? I try to keep the question to myself, but I raise it anyway, letting it take it’s turns.

“No, of course I was scared... but your parents sure... did a lot.” Alex speaks in pauses and I wonder if he stops to find better words, like he does sometimes and then corrects himself while looking at some blank spot, ruffling his thoughts to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. But here, it’s just like letting the cards you’ve been holding finally out.

I don’t know if I should ask him if he’ll come out as well now. I honestly don’t know. Thoughts are too tangled with old anxiety and fear.

He made me want to bath in turquoise to make me forget him, which is odd because it’s a colour, but it seemed to shatter me away, some glue to fix me and let me drown alone, not feeling, dead already, corpse just on the edges.

It’s a horrible rush of emotions which seems to paint over everything else.

I think I realized that I like Al by wanting him far too much, it was cutting down myself apart, I just fucking wanted him. It was a torturous walk until we had fucked that time, it was torturous looking at him, treasuring every locked eye moment and feeling as if it was the greatest thing ever until we’d hug and then kiss and then have sex, everything was an achievement, something so desperately longed.

I wondered if one day we’ll snap and we did.

I don’t know what to say to Alex now and it was just like in France when he had taken the acoustic guitar a bit later when we had hugged long enough in silence and I had fallen asleep to wake up with Alex kissing my cheek, just as I had opened my eyes and I remember how slow the wake up kiss was still surrounded by sleep and he was yanking me out, reminding me that we had fucked and he had just pulled me even closer, kissing my neck and I felt a bit too tired for a second round, so we just kept kissing for a good while, but I had still managed to shift on top of Al, feeling him get hard, but we didn’t do anything about it, just let ourselves stroke each other’s cheeks, play with the hair and then untangle to look at the ceiling with different old reliefs and I only saw flowers, wondering how come biblical themes didn’t manage to crawl their way in and remind me that I was going to hell.

It’s a very odd feeling when your parents don’t accept you, when you’re neglected and then you wonder what the fuck have you done wrong, what was so wrong about locking lips with another man?

And indeed what was wrong?

And with the laws, were we all doing the right thing or were we the sinners?

The thoughts when they had left me just dragged on and on in my head and I guess only fully ended when I had held Arabella first in my hands, shocked that soon enough the paperwork would be done and I was happy to see her biological mom just a bit hesitant and I was happy that there wasn’t a big issue and she seemed nice enough.

I guess the only thing which bothered me at night was that she’d still see her biological mother as her real family and not me and even looking at her, I wonder. I feel bad that I’m curious to see her grown up and I wonder what actual toys will she go for, I pretty much went for typical boy ones and I never struggled, but I never got the commotion just like many years at a family reunion there was a discussion if Dora should be watched by the sons, since Diego was available. I didn’t hold and asked what’s the big deal, but it was and mom snapped at me even if I had been already in my twenties and I was slowly making it.

We weren’t talking so I’m not aware how they had taken The Last Shadow Puppets, but they knew I was all over Alex, so I’m sure if they were a bit more bizarre they’d burn it and ask the priest to throw Holy Water over it to make sure it would never sin.

Alex had cooked the first few days and I had started to feel uncomfortable, but he kept doing it and he’d make sure to buy ingredients I wasn’t aware of how to cook, so I’d keep silent and realize that even if I were to cook, it would be shameful close to Alex’s cooking.

That’s why when Alex offers me to cook when I still hold Arabella in her sleep, holding her close, smiling at her fragile shape and I just hope she remains as peaceful later on, you just can’t avoid thinking of the child how will it actually be once it’s in your arms and every fucking sound makes you drop whatever you are doing and make sure she’s ok and you still fortune tell to yourself without the cards.

I had wondered what the fuck would happen if I do get my fortune told and once it was done and I wondered about it. And instead I had it told by one of my cousins who had gotten a fortune telling book and I wondered why the fuck did she even get one and I remember her shuffling and I was among her and her sister and they were just ordinary playing cards and then she started taking out things and the thing which had struck out was that I would have a man in my life, but we were too young to know properly and they just dismissed it as me having some close friend.

Then when I was in middle school I had a pack of cards and I bothered to remember that simple maneuver of doing so the shuffling and just pulling out a few cards and pretty much the jack of clubs had come up again as one of the cards and I just shuffled it back and it was gone, but the fact that I had gotten a man twice in my life in the few fortune telling really made me wonder, but no one has struck me out as much as Alex ever had.

Maybe that’s why I was so attached, maybe that’s why he was so attached. I honestly don’t know why we are so intertwined, why are we held so strictly in place, maybe it’s because of Arabella I honestly don’t know.

But in Paris I didn’t dare to raise anything and I wanted to keep not knowing what was going on, as if it had been a dream and I knew that something was wrong, but the dream was so blissful I couldn’t even dare to wake up or do any movements. I wanted it to keep going, Alex even telling us that we could cycle shirtless due to the weather and his leather jacket was long discarded but I had obviously preferred him shirtless and it didn’t really differ if he was dressed or not, I had wanted him just as much, we’d still have sex after making out, we’d wake up and have the other on top already biting the other’s neck.

I’m still surprised that among all the sex and loving we had managed to crawl outside, Alex reading novels outside in the parks as I’d just observe other people and I wondered how many of them would be gay, how many wouldn’t and on the next few days I had actually bothered to bring the guitar with me as Alex would keep reading and I was too scared to bother him and my playing would always cause a smile and a few looks as he’d read.

I wondered if I should walk around, but once I stand up I’d have Alex break the exchange with his book and he’d look at me and I’d never leave, I never do leave, he was always the one, even when I had discarded everything and life seemed like a never ending suicide, I kept feeling as if I was falling deeper and deeper into the lake, but I had managed to breathe.

Just like you can wake up from depression you can just fall back into depression over the night, it would happen when I would pull the covers over me and I would know he’s gone and I’d keep thinking that he’ll be gone, Alexa or Arielle, didn’t matter I’d stay depressed and of course when I was getting the papers and finding out how to adopt a child, how to get the statements, what I needed, I had thought what if I’d be depressed again, what if I’d become anxious, what if I wouldn’t feed the child, but the longer the process took the more I feel stimulated and frankly when something good happens in depression, something really good you do realize maybe not all is too bad and you wake up,

sure your legs are still asleep,

but fuck, you’re awake.

“What are you going to tell Arielle?” I ask Alex, gently rocking Arabella after resting my arms and he shifts a bit and I know that in this situation I’m nearly sure he’d want a cigarette and he’d smoke one, but instead he holds, crossing his arms and legs, closing his eyes and leaning deeper into the couch, avoiding the Beatles pillows and I just keep looking at him until he opens both eyes.

“Well, I have to tell the truth.” He says a bit too flat, trying to forget how Alexa was, it feels horrid for me to tell that it surely matters less as of course I didn’t get along with her and I’ms till surprised how Alexa still clings to me on events and calls me her friends, it’s as if she knows that I’m not with Alex and I never tell her that unlike her I make him come and he fucking wants me and loves me unlike her, that I was there all along and she’s the same as an old fake tanned high school girlfriend, but I never say that and we always get photoed together and I see it later in the press and sometimes I even avoid looking, unless there’s Alex and I get to see him through the eyes of many an attractive talented musician who seems to fuck groupies and keeps them for years. Someone who has “trophy” girlfriends, those girls who will be plastered on the walls for being skinny but will always have some bitter to their sweet smiles that makes you want to avoid them like the girls who every guy wanted in school.

It’s funny about school how everyone thinks it’s huge but once you’re out you want to forget so badly, I knew Al and only in the last year I knew that I was gay, I wanted him, I started touching myself to him and the attraction was entirely different, I wanted to pin him, I could spend hours thinking of how I had wanted him, how I wondered how he tasted and I would wonder how could I feast my mind with all the heterosexuality surrounding, I didn’t even properly know how would it feel, how was everything done as blokes would only talk about vaginas and tits and I’d just nod, wondering where the fuck would this information even help me.

Well, maybe giving Sex Ed to Arabella. Yeah, many years later and I’m sure, jealously, that Alex would explain it much better than I would.

It’s a bizarre thought, when you’re raised that girls shouldn’t have sex and not thinking of them, that Arabella will have a sexual relationship eventually, love crossed my mind, but not all of it, I don’t even know if the gender I’m presuming is hers and how will she feel about her name or if she will ever want to bond with anyone.

The thing about depression they don’t tell you that it’s ok, that everyone has been at the depth of the lake, that everyone had wanted to be alone and turned off the mobile, wondering what the fuck would the others think and thank once you’re dead. That it’s ok to look at a random belt and wonder if you can hang yourself with it or if you can drown yourself in a bathtub.

You don’t get told that everything is ok, that everything you’ve done is ok and when I grew up suicidal was like a murder that it would stay on your face like a tattoo and that you’d never see the light of the day, that all would be gone.

But then the world tells you that it’s not okay to be gay, that you should be killed, that you’re the sinner and now Russian actors are saying how I should be burnt and I wonder if I will make it to the mouths, a singer who had adopted and how if it was Russia it would be forbidden, but the thing is, the UK sure, we’ve got the laws, but we are far from tolerant if you’ll dig well enough you’ll find stories just as tragic, maybe not as violent and ending in death, but they’ll surely end up in suicide murder and bigotry. We surround ourselves in the white man’s myth, that we accept and we are the best that we believe in Cameron and that all is lovely, that we’ve got tea and we’ve got the lovely cabs everywhere and we allow people to praise Thatcher.

Those who rule say they like gay people that they know them, but just because I know my parents that will never fucking mean that I like them and proving my theory I’s ban their way of thinking, which is again wrapped tightly in the myth.

But when you fortune tell there’s no myth and when you let your fate play.

“You do realize that-”

“I’ll come out.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You make me go insane and that’s why I think I’ve been holding all these years.” I had whispered in Al’s ear as he had turned around, a bit flushed but he had to just breathe a bit deeper to get his thoughts away then and that had still given me a boost.

Later on we had went out together to eat and looking back then at the evening, I still wondered how much we had looked as a couple and in my head I had wished we were together when things with Arielle weren’t something Al had wanted and I had kept observing him sometimes looking out of the menu and he’d wait until my eyes would meet his and he’d go back down, as if to assure himself that I still loved him. 

Fuck it, I’m a wreck without him and anxiety would drag me on and I’d manage to drink sometimes some bizarre thoughts away, the feelings clawing at my chest as I’d keep playing. That’s how my life had gone after France came as mysteriously and vanished as well. I look at Al, scared that the same would actually happen and when he actually leaves I start going insane, pacing, putting Arabella back into her crib as he’d look back at me with a horrid sour judging face before realizing that she needed to show more evidence so then she’d start crying horribly. 

And I can see Arielle with a horrid snarl when Alex tells her, it’s not that he left her for someone where she’d shrug her shoulders and do a vine about, that he had left her for someone beautiful and that all men are assholes and leave women for girls with prettier hair (I love how shallow straight people seem to be), but no he had left her for another man, someone who she is not, someone entirely different just proving that she was never his type, that she was a mere joke to be passed around with Martini cocktails, she’d yell, feel that she’s threatened by the knife of loneliness that a queer man had went for her and she’d question her femininity. 

I feel bad for her even if she’s the enemy not even aware that a war is going on. I remember how Al had left me and after a few days the itch spread out in desire to meet someone else and it had been stupid that I had wandered out and drank a few cocktails looking at gay men again with the fact that no one had ever touched a finger against my temple. 

They say friendship is like wine, gets better with years, then love is like wine, gets standable in years. In the beginning you have no idea why you do it and you keep fucking it up. But then those who last are the strongest, with time they become stronger, when you know the other inside out, that’s why you love, you still love, there is no need to kill the love. Time and love seem to be stitched together and for some reason that stitching seems to be very strong. 

"The worst break up is when two people love each other." Is what Arielle had told Alex and I don’t know how broken had her face been with all her beliefs that love being apart is still love, that being alone on Valentine’s holds love, that lovers never intertwine besides on some photos, that the lives are separate and that the further the better it is to avoid the pain, but such didn’t happen. She was left. I had hovered imagining how he had to agree but the break up he had feared had been earlier with someone else. Arielle wasn’t the person he had feared. I couldn’t imagine dating someone who was pulling the weight down on the see-saw and I just looked at him, as he looked ahead, wondering what twisted thoughts had creeped in but then I hadn’t been better. Two are always at fault. One for being blind. 

I always wondered how come he had managed to sleep at night when I would walk outside and buy some ice cream at a local newsagent, eyeing all the magazines and wondering how many porn magazines had been stashed everywhere and I’d walk through the aisles, wondering when would they figure that I should leave, but instead I’d get ice cream and I’d leave it as such, walking back in the cold, the city managing to lick my wounds, but the problem was that it was too early to do so, as I was still bleeding. Everything seems like a faint memory now, but still seems quite bright in my eyes, some things just don’t fade away, but memories do break eventually. 

One day you just wake up and the depression seems to be gone and that had been during France. We were renting an apartment and what had amused me was that there was an oddly shaped full body mirror near the shower and Alex had been talking to Alexa and I was taking a shower. We had both taken the piss that most likely it was to watch themselves wank. I kept scrubbing my skin, avoiding the mirror and I had looked at myself. It was odd. I had always felt rather skinny, but I’d still avoid meals and then I looked at myself. I wasn’t that bad.

I wasn’t that bad.

I looked at myself as I scrubbed my arms, I wouldn’t be attracted to myself, but I wasn’t that bad with hair glued to my face. I wasn’t as wrong as I felt I was. I just got out of the shower and waited then for Alex patiently to continue lying to Alexa and to myself, but I had let myself dissolve as he seemed to have loved me. But during all these years, I still felt as if I had been holding onto straws which I couldn’t even feel on my fingers anymore. It felt as if once I had jumped onto a better place Alex would fade and we would never be on the same thought of getting back together. And it seemed to be that way and the pain never went away. It would increase unlike those days where I would try to tell myself to forget him and sometimes that would work until he would talk to me again and it would get worse.

We tried to get back together and I had closed the door again, right before Arielle again. It’s been so on and off, that I don’t even know which ones are dreams which I wake up from the night as he had poisoned all my essence, but it’s a slow painful death and he’s not doing anything to make it stop, it’s a small bite of venom which keeps spreading, making my body numb and fully dipped in lust and love. 

After France I had felt that I had been two, I could see myself nourishing my depression, I could see myself feeding myself. I could see myself wondering if I had the guts to run a butter knife up my leg and I’d even wonder how deep would it have to be for me to reach the blood and would I be numb enough to reach the bone, would I always be in the black box, shut tightly, not to even hear Alex’s footsteps, so that I never know where he is at. 

The fear still pierces me on the inside of my cheek as I look at him even now, wiping off all the ash which is left from Arielle off his sleeve. 

When you fall in love you suffocate and then when you’re loved back, you’re back to breathing only with your lungs full of fluid, but it’s not deadly, it’s the belief that it is, because people get scared of trusting people who will surely break their lives, telling the rest to be scared just because they are. 

Just because they had died from the water, doesn’t mean that all will. 

His perfection seems to taint me and fill me with fear and it had. The fear consumes me. I never feel well enough, especially after he kept leaving me it was me against the floor, trailing the nails against the floor, feeling my nails ache as I would imagine Alex with any silhouette just not my own. His perfection would seem to scare me, let me silent and wish that he would build me, that I would be an Alex in love with an Alex, but even then I’d find some fault within me to disqualify myself half-time. And even when he’s back with no Arielle on his sleeve and lipstick stains and he is all mine, I even feel envious of Arabella as I will never be an Alex and everyone else can. I was even shy to let the stubble grow because Alex would never do so unless he could, but because he couldn’t I saw no sense. 

The fact that the water in seas goes black in the night fascinates me and scares me. Also in ponds and when I’d get depressed when Alex would call Alexa, I’d get my collar up, no scarf and I’d walk maybe to remind myself how close I had been to death and that his hand is always there.

Maybe I am not grasping at straws indeed, maybe it’s a whole hand tugging me up. 

But jealousy had been the knife which we’d be carrying and it would be stuck between our bodies as we would make up, cutting us both, but when you bleed, you forget about the other. I can sometimes still see the blood on my fingers and my eyes have been opened when Alex’s wound is stitched and maybe I don’t hate his quiff anymore. 

The fear of seeing Arielle seems to startle me, the fact that she would point at me and yell that I am a man, that Alex is a man and that we shouldn’t be together and the heavens or whatever her mind will pray to will not accept it, how wrong it is and she will walk away as if she had sent the plague on our houses forever. I shiver. 

I’m not on the right side, to the world, to society I am the disgrace and I have converted Alex Turner. To the eyes of many I am the queer thing, the odd one, the faggot, the one who you should close your eyes on the street and the one my parents pray every night with the thought in the back of their head that they wish I were dead and long gone already to never dawn on their soft pink existence. 

I don’t have girls singing Arabella to me and wishing they were just as skinny as Arielle or Alexa. I had flicked through the book and the masculine cut and granola offended me, why would you even go to a female? Does your haircut matter? How shallow are you? It made me wonder if she had never been someone I should be scared of? Maybe he just missed her because she was recent. She didn’t seem to tip toe into his thoughts, he’d flick the yellow pages through her, his eyes barely catching her.

Maybe there is no fear to fear?

Like a child, I feared that I thought that all relationships were like ours, I happened to wear heart shaped glasses thinking that this was how it actually was to be queer, only a few deviants actually crawl out and confess about their lifestyle. Anxiety seemed to be keep going within me and the dark waters seemed thick, yet when I wasn’t near they seemed to attract me, but it felt as if if I were to jump, I’d suffocate I’d drown and I’d take Alex with me in a kiss. 

Fear kept following me as I’d watch him dress up and I think even Alex had noticed my distress the closer we had gotten to leaving France forever. We would never come back and I had started wondering if I could stick my head into the black goo, for it to swallow me and I wondered if in the night water would taste like licorice due to its colouring an perhaps flavouring.

I kept thinking that there was surely something wrong with me, stinging me like an unfinished cigarette giving you some odd fear that it might burn something as you cross the street towards some direction you won’t recall tomorrow. 

I really thought that something was wrong with me and I kept fiddling with the thought of therapy but throwing forty quid a week seemed unreasonable with something which could be contuing a week per every year and that seemed to bother me and I knew that someday my depression would catch up on me, the anxiety and sometimes I just felt tempted again to see how it would feel to drown with no Alex to yank me out, so that I could see all their reactions on their faces, but just like time, suicide was terminal. 

The fear of being unwanted stings and dismantles, giving an odd pear taste of jealousy which seems to cause all my insecurities. The fact that I was alone and gay after Paris seemed to make it worse, gay seemed to become a word linked to me so close that I had forgotten that there was something odd about me loving another man and even in Paris, I didn’t feel gay, I didn’t feel like waving a pride flag and attaching it to my bike, I just felt in love, the word which people try to describe.

I didn’t feel worthy with all his quoting of Dostoevsky who I couldn’t read late at night, holding my eyes and feeling no connection to someone who was attracted to females. Mishima was far too much of an odd and loveless read, but at least I could see the attraction between men which seem to ride my interest, but even then I could not understand how Alex would bite through all these books and I realized that he still had half of him which understood people who were normal. I don’t understand why do we barely have any books, why do even the books with good plots have to escape my fingers because I don’t understand the rules of written love.

You just fall in love and sometimes even queer people forget about it.

I flinch. 

I shift to Alex, it all comes down to the fear of being left alone in the walls when the gun is loaded and there is no chance that the bullet won’t happen in this delightful game of Russian Roulette. The gun is entirely loaded with Alex in my mind. 

I believe the thing which even made me lean closer to the water was meeting Jamie and Alison in Paris. We had both had the question upon the lips, only The Kills had the whole atmosphere of are they actually fucking with all the guitar sex, which I thought we never had. 

I tried not to think of myself that I even forget what I was thinking of, when the jokes would shift on the tables which we’d sit with people and he’d laugh at gay jokes and I would just sit there, how he can shift in and I can’t, how I don’t understand the thrill of a dumb trophy wife on your side, I don’t understand how can you let your life slip free without love. 

"Have you ever thought that maybe he’s doing for the whole interest of are they fucking or not? Once you knew about The White Stripes it still had the whole why are they still together, so that’s an exception. They will gave interest." Hince would blow on his cigarette as it would continue lazily burning. "While if me and Alison got together, yeah, great lets see them fuck on stage. But then what? Yeah you see us fuck and that’s it, the singles get annoyed and pray that well break up because they can’t get the guts to fucking date. That’s it. You lose."

I palen and I keep watching Alex with Alison laughing about something and drinking each other’s shots, still three shots in a row in front of them.

"With you and Al, it’s even better, you’ve got the whole tongue in cheek interest, the whole sin thing going on. You just can’t say you don’t love each other, you love the sex behind the scenes but you don’t want gay men in your iPod, do you?"

I don’t hit him. I don’t even change topic, I let Hince’s smug face fade away as his interest in me is now a loss which even he sees.

“Even those who say gay is ok, the won’t go supporting you and they’ll fucking support any cunt who happens to be do something they are used to on television, the gay jokes will continue because the homophobes are in power and those who will accept you will be backstabbing your carreer by giving the homophobes the power to turn you into powder. That’s why you don’t come out, Kane.” I just freeze and he watched me amused and through his own fog of alcohol and earlier taken drugs I’m guessing and easy smile, as the drugs start wearing off. I watch him. 

The loss of Paris seemed like a heavy load, something like a blade cutting the fabric and even if there had been no blood, I still cringed at Alex’s lack of time and how I would just can myself inside and when I started touring and giving myself a schedule I felt as if now he had all the reason to ignore me under my own flesh. He’d still visit me but we’d be scared to touch as I had known who had given him his shirt, who had planted a kiss of trust on his lips just for me to peel it off.


	10. Chapter 10

Coming back from Paris meant submerging myself and depression seems to null out everything, even not picking up phones, letting them ring, as I was curled in a ball, all of time slipping through my fingers and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten close to such a stubble ever and food supplies were done through deliveries until I could be yanked out and the fact that I would never be seemed to trigger me, so many things to clutch my hair out and pull it, the mind entirely numb and sometimes my hand still goes numb. 

The fear of Alex now being with me seems scarier and sometimes I oddly feel like I would be better if he would just leave me just like after Paris with Jamie’s words within me, I wouldn’t be something Alex could announce and thrashing something for someone who just seemed to be there sometimes, someone who couldn’t even speak to him and I still wonder where do I find the courage to believe in the fairytale that Alex loves me?

“Your love scares me.” I say when we’re both tucked in bed, awaiting life to shatter somehow, the fear comes stinging and twitching and it’s no longer an itch which seems to soothe with pills, it just keeps crawling deeper and deeper under the skin, springing free. 

He seems to be more stern than usual, his eyes finally giving out a significant glow, not even with a shield, some desire which I’ve never seen as we both dress up, Arabella seeming to be proud of herself as she fiddles with toys hanging to pretty much bother her, as her face seems far too carefree and I feel like I’m the only one holding fear for all three of us, all of a sudden, as we go towards the elevator, nodding to the neighbor who glances at all three of us and shuts the door.

In the elevator I start losing sense of reality, closing my eyes, scared-

and that’s when Alex kisses me, grabbing my wrists, holding them tight to give me feeling as his tongue enters my mouth and I give a surprised gasp as he keeps making out with me, releasing one of my wrists to hold the bar of the carriage and I feel once the door open that we would be revealed, but we just get more neighbors as Alex pulls away, fixes his collar and pushes the carriage forward, Arabella making a delighted noise as she observes Alex with her blue eyes. He smiles back at her and I don’t catch fear in his cheeks, I just catch some child-like concern like the first day of the week, when you know the week will be far from miserable and we exit, we don’t hold hands, Alex nearly reaching his pocket for cigarettes, but stops himself, smiling.

Arabella watches both of us and we quickly glance at each other.

He kisses me. He holds the kiss, I feel his excitement, his bottom lip trembles as he opens his mouth and I follow.

I’m not bait.

But we hear a flash.

And I turn around.

Another flash follows with questions as I just blink, now gripping the carriage and we just walk on, only now there is a man taking photos, asking questions as Alex just increases his speed and I keep my eyes on him, as he avoids the paparazzi, far more used than I am. He keeps following us right to the park. 

Alex reminds me of a dandelion, the wish well hidden when I had seen him and it’s not that he had changed, maybe it’s just the hope or the kisses he gives me now, the confidence that the dream will come true after you blow it all away to reveal the naked flower to chuck away, all it purpose gone with the wish upon the palms and soon enough there’s even a second paparazzi and I wonder how soon will the attention towards us fade, how many stores will censor two men with a child in a carriage, how many people will ask us who is the father, who is the mother and why does Arabella doesn’t even look like me,

people will dig out the certificates, people will call, hold a grudge and we will be frowned upon just because we had acted upon the love which happened between us far too many years ago and the thing is no matter how often you’ll hold it away, the grudge will still happen, people will still mutter, that’s the thing

because the miserable don’t understand the happy. 

Epilogue

I think when years pass you end up realizing you’ve lived a thousand lives and it stops being lives where I am with Alex and without Alex, in the end it ends up with him being right besides me, through all of it, through all the times my parents come back, through all the times the press attacked us. 

It even feels like it stopped being me, maybe that’s immortality all the lives you’ve lived. 

It’s not even the candles we’ve blown out. It ends up being all the people who have collapsed, all the people who have aged and I sit drinking coffee, Alex swearing as he gets hold of the cake too fast and nearly burns his fingers and I quickly glance at him, still lost in my thought before I start laughing and he calls me a wanker.

My anxiety rises but seeing Alex, glancing at all the photos of Arabella also pinned to the fridge not just only scattered all over the apartment as she would nag, not bothering to take off her shoes after coming home and having her back for summer break finally, seems as if the wait has been short and should be really be longer, until the silence is broken and Alex is still nursing his fingers as I give him some ice cubes, quickly pecking him on the cheek before heading towards the corridor, stepping over scattered clothing which Alex had a whole ordeal of choosing and eventually I head towards the door, opening to see Arabella with a newly shaved head. I smirk and I let her in, as her partner walks in behind her and I kiss them both on their cheeks, as Alex walks in with ice cubes in his hands and we all resume chatter.

**Author's Note:**

> I cracked and decided to spread this oldie on AO3. 
> 
> For more milex, backstories and other work: http://graspthesanity.blogspot.com/


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